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! 


LUCILE . TRIUMPHANT 







THEY MADE AN ALLURINGLY PICTURESQUE LITTLE GROUP 



LUCILE 

TRIUMPHANT 


BY 

ELIZABETH M. DUFFIELD 

H 

Author of “Lucile, The Torch Bearer” 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
M. P. TAYLOR 



NEW YORK 

SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 


Copyright, 1916 

By sully and KLEINTEICH 


All Rights Reserved 


ftliG -2 1916 


©CU437079 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

1 . 

“Greetings, Fellow Travelers” 


PAGE 

I 

IL 

Echoes of the Camp-fire . 


9 

III. 

A Latter Day Miracle 


19 

IV. 

Counting the Hours . 


29 

V. 

As Though on Wings . 


38 

VI. 

“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago ” 


44 

VII. 

The Magic City 


55 

VIII. 

Enter Jack 


69 

IX. 

Hurrah for Europe! . 


84 

X. 

Whirled Through the Night 


95 

XI. 

“All Ashore Who are Going 



Ashore !” 


106 

XII. 

Monsieur Charloix 


119 

XIII. 

Romance 


131 

XIV. 

A Vain Quest ..... 


143 

XV. 

Land, Ho I 


157 

XVI. 

The Red-letter Day . 


172 

XVII. 

The Glory of the Past 


185 

XVIII. 

Great Expectations 


195 

XIX. 

The Breath of the War God . 


207 

XX. 

Crossing the Channel 


223 


VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXL The Old Chateau :?32 

XXII. The Heart of the Mystery . . 242 

XXIII. Lucile Triumphs , . . . . 257 

XXIV. “Two’s Company” 266 

XXV. The Thunderbolt 279 

XXVI. Through Shrouding Mists . . 293 

XXVII. Home! 299 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


They made an alluringly picturesque little 
group. (See page 289) 


Another instant she was being whirled 
away on Jack’s arm. (See page 79). . . . 

Without waiting for an answer, she plunged 
her hand into the opening 

He brokenly read the headlines: “Austria 
declares war." 


Frontispiece 

PACING PAGE 

80 

250 

V'' 

288 



CHAPTER I 


‘‘greetings, fellow-travelers” 

The great news was out ! Two girls regarded their 
companion in open-mouthed astonishment. 

“Europe !” cried Jessie. “Lucy, will you please say 
that all over again and say it slowly,” she begged, 
leaning forward tensely. 

Lucile's eyes danced as she repeated slowly and 
with great emphasis, “I said just this — Dad is going 
to Europe and he intends to take me with him.” 

The girls were incredulous. 

“But, wh-when are you going?” stammered Evelyn, 
dazedly. 

“In' three weeks at the outside, maybe sooner,” 
Lucile answered, then added, with feigned reproach, 
“You don’t, either of you, seem a bit glad.” 

“Oh, we are, we are,” they protested, and Evelyn 
added, “It just took our breath away, that’s all.” 

“Lucile, it’s the finest thing that ever happened to 
you,” said Jessie, impulsively throwing her arms 
about her friend. 

The latter returned the embrace with equal fervor. 


2 


Lucile Triumphant 


but her eyes were retrospective as she answered, 
“Oh, it’s wonderful, of course, and I haven’t even 
begun to get used to it yet, but I don’t think it’s any 
greater than ” 

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Evelyn broke in. 
“You mean Mayaro River and Aloea and ranks and 
things like that ” 

“Exactly,” laughed Lucile, her face flushing with 
the memory, “and honors and guardians and 
races and ” 

“Oh, stop her, someone, quick,” begged Jessie, 
gayly. “If you don’t, she’ll keep it up all day,” then 
more gravely, “It was wonderful and none of us will 
ever forget it — but, Lucy, do, oh, do tell us more about 
Europe before I die of curiosity!” 

“Oh, yes, please go on,” urged Evelyn; “we want 
to hear all about how it happened, and just when 
you’re going to start and how long you expect to stay 
and ” 

“Slow up a little,” begged Lucile, in dismay. “I’ll 
tell you everything in time, but I must have time I” 

“Come out, time, you’re wanted,” cried Evelyn, 
pushing aside the bushes as though in search of the 
runaway. 


“Greetings, Fellow-Travelers” 


3 


^‘I suppose you think you’re funny,” sniffed Jessie, 
disdainfully. ‘‘But I feel obliged to tell you as a 
friend ” 

“Cease!” commanded Lucile, sternly. “If you 
don’t stop at once and listen respectfully and atten- 
tively to what I have to say. I’ll ” 

“Well, what will you do,” Evelyn challenged, with 
an heroic air of braving the worst. “Tell us, now — 
what will you do ?” 

Lucile paused to consider for a moment, then an- 
nounced, gravely, “There is only one punishment 
great enough for such a crime ” 

“And that ” they breathed. 

“That,” repeated Lucile, sternly, “would be to re- 
move the light of my presence ” 

“Oh, if that’s all, you needn’t mind about us,” said 
Jessie, evidently relieved. 

“Go on, Lucy,” urged Evelyn, virtuously. “I won’t 
interrupt again.” 

“Better get started before she repents,” advised 
Jessie. 

“Sound advice,” Lucile agreed, ironically, though 
her eyes snapped with fun. “I don’t see why two 
people can’t get along without throwing hatchets at 


4 Lucile Triumphant 

each other’s heads all the time. But never mind that,” 
she added, hastily, seeing signs of more “hatchets.” 

“All I have to say is, it isn’t my fault,” murmured 
Jessie. 

“The only way to treat the lower classes is to ig- 
nore them absolutely,” Evelyn retorted, turning her 
back on Jessie. “Now, Lucy, what were you saying?” 

“I was trying to say something about my trip ” 

she began. 

“Oh, yes, how long are you going to stay?” 

“All summer.” 

“Oh, you lucky, lucky girl,” cried Jessie. “You do 
certainly have the most wonderful luck. Not but what 
you deserve every bit of it and more,” she added, 
warmly. 

“There’s just one thing in the world on which we 
both agree,” laughed Evelyn, “and that’s it!” 

They looked with fond and justifiable pride upon 
the laughing recipient of their praise. From any- 
body’s point of view, Lucile was good to look upon. 
Mischief sparkled in her eyes and bubbled over from 
lips always curved in a merry smile. “Just to look at 
Lucile is enough to chase away the blues,” Jessie had 
once declared in a loving eulogy on her friend. “But 


“Greetings, Fellow-Travelers” 5 

when you need sympathy, there is no one quicker to 
give it than Lucy.” From her mass of wind-blown 
curls to the tips of her neat little tennis shoes she was 
the spirit incarnate of the sport-loving, fun-seeking 
summer girl. 

Then there was their summer at camp the year be- 
fore, when Lucile had led them undauntedly and as a 
matter of course through experiences and dangers that 
would have dazed the other girls. 

And then had come the crowning glory, the climax 
of their wonderful summer — the race ! They felt 
again the straining of that moment when, with half a 
length to make up and scant twenty yards from the 
goal, she had led them in the glorious, madcap dash 
to victory! From that day on she had reigned su- 
preme in the girls’ warm hearts, and there was not 
one of them but felt ‘‘that nothing was too good for 
her.” 

“Let’s be thankful for small blessings,” laughed Lu- 
cile, referring to Evelyn’s last remark. “By the way, 
girls, have you heard about Margaret?” 

“No; what is it?” They were all eager interest at 
once. 

“Why, Judge Stillman called a consultation yester- 


6 Lucile Triumphant 

day and the doctors pronounced Margaret absolutely 
cured !’' 

'‘Hurrah !” cried Jessie, springing up from the rock 
she had been using as a seat. “We knew she was bet- 
ter, but — oh, say, isn't it great?” 

“Rather; but that isn’t all,” said Lucile. “The 
Judge insists that we have done it all — and the camp- 
fire, too, of course.” 

“Oh, nonsense,” Evelyn exclaimed. “It was the 
woods and the air and the water that did it. That 
was all she needed.” 

“Humph, speak for yourself,” Jessie interposed. “I 
admit she could have done without you very well; I 
could myself, but ” 

“Do I hear a gentle murmur as of buzz-saws buzz- 
ing?” quoth Evelyn, dreamy eyes fixed on space. “Me- 
thinks it grows more rasping of late ” 

“For goodness’ sake, girls, stop it,” begged Lucile, 
despairingly. “If you are going to be like this all 
summer, how on earth can I take you with me? I 
don’t want to live in a hive of hornets.” 

“Take us with you?” they cried, bewildered. “What 
do you mean?” and Jessie added, tragically, “Tell me 
quickly or I die !” 


“Greetings, Fellow-Travelers” 7 

‘‘Oh, I just thought I might.” It was Lucile’s turn 
to regard the heavens fixedly. 

“Lucile, rd like to shake you. You can be the most 
exasperating thing at times!” cried Jessie, excitedly, 
and Evelyn, with an inelegance that was none the less 
forceful, “If you have anything up your sleeve, let’s 
have it!” 

Lucile’ s gaze came down to earth abruptly. 

“You seem to be in a great hurry,” she protested. 
“You haven’t given me time yet, you know.” 

“Oh, we’ll hunt him up for you some other time,” 
Evelyn wheedled, and Jessie added, sagely, “We’re 
only losing him this way, you know” ; then added, in 
desperation, “If you don’t explain right away, you’ll 
have a corpse on your hands, Lucy.” 

“Why, there’s nothing to explain; you are just go- 
ing, that’s all,” said Lucile, as if the matter were def- ’ 
initely settled. 

“Lucy, are you fooling? If you are. I’ll never, never 
forgive you.” It was Evelyn who spoke, her whole 
body quivering with excitement. 

“No, she’s in earnest; can’t you see? She means, 
she means ” and Jessie paused before the fate- 

ful word. 


8 Lucile Triumphant 

It was more than Lucile could stand. She jumped 
up, danced a few joyous and absurd little steps, then, 
turning, made the girls a low bow. 

“Greetings, fellow-travelers,’' she said. 


CHAPTER II 


ECHOES OF THE CAMP-FIRE 

“But whatever put it into your head to take us 
along?'’ Jessie asked, after the first wild excitement 
had abated a trifle. 

“Well, you see, it was this way,” began Lucile, with 
the air of one imparting a grave secret. “When Dad 
came home last night, the first thing he did was to 
begin asking me a lot of foolish questions — or, at least, 
they seemed so to me. He started something like 
this : Tf you had your choice, what would you want 
most in the world 

“If he had asked me that, I wouldn’t be through 
yet,” Jessie broke in. 

“Never mind her, Lucy,” said Evelyn. “Go on, 
please.” 

“I felt very much that way myself, Jessie,” and Lu- 
cile nodded understanding^ at the ruffled Jessie. 
“Well,” she went on, “I began naming over several 

things, and when I’d finished Dad looked so sad I 
9 


10 


Lucile Triumphant 


thought I must have done something terrible, but when 
I asked him what was the matter he simply shook his 
head despairingly and sighed, ‘Not there, not there.’ ” 

The girls laughed merrily. 

“Oh, I can just see him,” chuckled Evelyn. 

“Well, what then?” Jessie urged. 

“Oh, I didn’t know what to do,” Lucile continued. 
“The more I asked him to explain, the more discon- 
solate he looked. When I couldn’t stand it any longer 
I left the room, saying if he didn’t want to tell me, he 
needn’t. Then, when I got outside the door I could 
hear him chuckling to himself.” 

“Just like him,” again interposed Jessie. 

“Well, all the time I knew something was coming. 
At dinner it came when Dad calmly announced that 
he was going to Europe on business and that if his 
family wished — imagine that, wished — he might let us 
go along.” 

“Oh, my — wished!” murmured Evelyn. 

“You should have seen Phil,” Lucile went on with 
her story. “I never saw anyone so dumbfounded. He 
stopped with a piece of fish halfway to his mouth and 
gaped at Dad as if he were some curiosity. I must 
have looked funny, too, for suddenly Dad began to 


Echoes of the Camp-fire 11 

laugh, and he laughed and he laughed till we thought 
he’d die. 

‘You couldn’t look more dumbfounded if I had 
ordered your execution,’ he gasped when he could get 
his breath. ‘Of course, I can always make arrange- 
ments for you to stay behind.’ ” 

“Oh,” breathed the girls in unison, “what did you 
say?” 

“Say? You had better ask what didn’t we say. 
We talked and talked and talked as fast as our tongues 
would go till after midnight, and we wouldn’t have 
stopped then if mother hadn’t shooed us off to bed. 
Oh, I don’t think I was ever so happy in all my life !” 

“But where do we come in?” insisted Jessie. 

“Right here. You see, I had been so excited and 
everything, I hadn’t realized what it would mean to 
leave you girls for the whole summer. I guess Dad 
saw there was something the matter, for, when I 
started upstairs, he drew me back and asked me to tell 
him what was wrong. When I told him I wished you 
girls were going, too, he surprised me by saying, ‘Why 
not?’ For a moment I thought he was joking — he’s 
always doing that, you know — but when I saw he was 
in sober earnest I could have danced for joy.” 


12 Lucile Triumphant 

“Don’t blame you. Fd not only have felt like it; 
Fd have done it, too,” said Evelyn. 

“Yes, and scandalized the neighbors,” Jessie sniffed. 

“I fail to see how the neighbors would have known 
anything about it,” retorted Evelyn, with dignity, 
“since they can’t see through the walls.” 

“Oh, they don’t have to see,” said Jessie, wither- 
ingly. “Anybody within a mile of you can hear you 
dance.” 

“See here, Jessie Sanderson, that’s not fair,” Lu- 
cile broke in. “Evelyn’s one of the best little dancers 
I know, and I won’t have her maligned.” 

“Have her what? I wish you’d speak United States, 
Lucy,” said Jessie, plaintively. 

“Don’t talk and you won’t show your ignorance.” 
It was Evelyn’s turn to be scornful. 

“Well, what does it mean?” Jessie returned. '‘You 
tell us.” 

“Some other time,” said Evelyn, calmly. “You will 
have to excuse me now. I am so excited now that I 
really can’t bring my mind down to trivial matters.” 

“I knew it,” Jessie was declaiming tragically, when 
a clear whistle sounded from the foot of the hill and 
Lucile exclaimed: 


13 


Echoes of the Camp-fire 

‘There’s Phil ; I wonder what he wants now.” 

The three girls made a pretty picture as they stood 
there gazing eagerly down the slope, Lucile with her 
vivid gypsy coloring and fair-haired, blue-eyed Jessie, 
exactly her opposite, yet, withal, her dearest and most 
loyal friend; and last, but not least, Evelyn, short and 
round and jolly, with a happy disposition that won 
her friends wherever she went; 

Although it is generally conceded that “three make 
a crowd,” the rule was certainly wide of the mark in 
this case. The girls were bound by a tie even stronger 
than friendship, and that tie was the law of the camp- 
fire. The latter had taught them many brave lessons 
in the game of life, lessons in self-denial, in sympathy 
and loyalty, and they were ever anxious to prove that 
they had learned their lessons well. 

Though, once in a while, besetting sins would crop 
out and Lucile would cry, despairingly, “Oh, why did I 
do it ; I knew I shouldn’t,” and Jessie would stop, when 
plunging nobly through a box of candies, to cry peni- 
tently, “Oh, I’ve eaten too many,” and Evelyn would 
often be tempted to read too long and neglect her 
work, still, on the whole, they were infinitely helped by 
the wholesome teaching and precepts of the campfire. 


14 Lucile Triumphant 

‘‘Oh, he’s got a letter,” cried Lucile, as Phil took a 
flying leap into their midst. 

“Say,” said Phil, eyeing them pityingly, “don’t you 
fellows know it’s time to eat?” 

“It’s never dinner-time yet,” said Jessie in dismay. 

“Yes it is, too,” Evelyn contradicted. “Just look 
where the sun is.” 

“Where is it?” cried Phil, and then, as his gaze 
wandered to the sky, he added, with an air of relief, 
“Oh, it’s still there ; how you frightened me !” 

“Goose!” his sister commented, and then, looking 
at the envelope he still held in his hand, she added, 
“Who’s the letter from? Be sensible and tell us 
about it.” 

“Oh, that?” said Phil. “That’s a letter from Jim. 
Seems to be getting along first rate.” 

“What does he say?” asked Jessie, all interest. 

Phil eyed her speculatively. “I tell you what I’ll 
do,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it on the way home.” 

The girls laughed and Lucile explained, “You see, 
he’s never happy far from home and dinner.” 

“You seemed to get away with a mighty generous 
supply of oysters yourself the other night,” Phil grum- 
bled good-naturedly. 


15 


Echoes of the Camp-fire 

“Well, if I did, I was only obeying the camp-fire 
law, ‘Be healthy,' " Lucile defended warmly. 

The girls laughed and Jessie murmured something 
about, “That’s right; keep ’em under.” 

“What’s that?” Phil demanded, but Jessie evaded 
with another question : 

“When are you going to tell us about Jim?” 

“Here we are, half the way home, and you haven’t 
even begun,” Evelyn added. 

“Well, he seems more than satisfied with his en- 
gineering, and most of his letter is taken up with 
praises of Mr. Wescott and his wife and how good 
they are to him. He says the luck he’s had almost 
makes him believe in fate.” 

“Well, there certainly did seem to be a fate in the 
way young Mr. Wescott just happened up to camp in 
the nick of time to find our guardian and fall in love 
with her, worse luck,” and Lucile vindictively kicked a 
stone from the path as though it were the meddling 
Mr. Wescott himself. “And then to think he should 
like Jim, a poor little country boy, well enough to take 
him along with him to the city, where he could make 
something of himself.” 

“Well, all I have to say is that there’s no one I’d 


16 


Lucile Triumphant 


rather see get along than Jim. I liked him the first 
minute I saw him, and he sure does improve on ac- 
quaintance — the longer you know him, the more you 
like him. He deserves everything he gets,” and Phil’s 
face glowed with boyish enthusiasm. 

“That’s the way we all felt,” said Lucile with equal 
earnestness, while Evelyn could not repress a chuckle 
at the memory of their first meeting with Jim. “Has 
he anything else to say?” 

“Only one thing,” ans*vered Phil, mysteriously. 

“What is it?” the girls demanded in chorus. 

“Hurry up, please, Phil,” Jessie pleaded. 

“Certainly, anything for you,” Phil returned gal- 
lantly. “Why, he just states that Mr. and Mrs. Wes- 
cott ” 

“Miss Howland!” cried Evelyn. 

“Miss Howland that was,” corrected Phil; “Mrs. 
Wescott that is.” 

“What difference does it make?” cried Lucile, im- 
patiently. “What about her — is she sick?” 

At the suggestion the girls grew pale. 

“Not quite as bad as that,” teased Phil, enjoying 
the sensation his news was making and bent on pro- 
longing it to the last extreme. 


Echoes of the Camp-fire 17 

‘‘Not quite? Oh, Phil, what do you mean?’' cried 
Jessie, imploringly. 

Anxiety and alarm showed so plainly on the girls’ 
white faces that Phil suddenly relented. 

“Don’t get scared,” he continued, elegantly. “Your 
guardian isn’t sick. If she were, I guess she wouldn’t 
be making plans for visiting Burleigh.” 

“Is that the truth?” Lucile demanded, seizing her 
brother’s arm. “Don’t play any more tricks, Phil,” she 
pleaded. “It means an awful lot to us, you know, if 
Miss — Mrs. Wescott is coming.” 

“Oh, that’s on the level all right,” Phil answered, 
with evident sincerity. “She just made up her mind a 
little while ago and Jim thinks she will probably write 
to you girls about it.” 

“Oh, just think, we are really going to see her again 
after six months,” Jessie exclaimed, joyfully. 

“And we’ll give her a reception she will never for- 
get,” Lucile decided. 

“All right; I’m with you,” Phil shouted, and was off 
to join a crowd of the fellows on the other side of the 
street. 

“Don’t forget w^e eat soon,” Lucile called after him. 

“Such a chance,” he flung back. “Bet I’ll be there 


before you will.” 


18 Lucile Triumphant 

thinks we’re going to talk for another couple 
of hours,” Jessie interpreted. 

‘‘No, we’d better do our talking to-morrow. Tell 
you what we’ll do — I have an idea,” cried Lucile. 

“Bright child, tell us about it,” said Evelyn. 

“Suppose we call a special camp-fire meeting to- 
morrow morning to talk over plans for Miss How- 
land’s — I mean Mrs. Wescott’s reception.” 

“Fine — but who will let them know ?” 

“Come over to-night, both of you, and we can ’phone 
them from here.” 

“All right, we’ll do that, Lucy,” agreed Evelyn. 
“We’ll see you about eight o’clock, then.” 

“Better run, Lucy,” warned Jessie, with a backward 
glance over her shoulder. “Phil will beat you in if 
you don’t hurry — he’s coming full tilt.” 

“All right. I’ll see you to-night,” said Lucile, as she 
made a dash for the house. 

She stopped for a moment on the doorstep to flash 
them a merry glance and cry triumphantly, “I won !” 

“But not by much,” claimed Phil, taking the steps 
two at a time. 

As they turned away, Jessie sent one parting shot 
over her shoulder: 

“A miss is as good as a mile,” she gibed. 


CHAPTER III 


A LATTER-DAY MIRACLE 

Saturday dawned gloriously. The warm rain that 
had fallen over night had dissolved the last frail bond 
of winter and had set the spring world-free. Trees 
and bushes and shrubs were frosted with clinging, glis- 
tening diamonds that shimmered and gleamed in the 
sun, while the moist, warm earth sent up a pungent 
sweetness found only in the early spring. 

“Smell it, just smell it!” said Jessie, sniffing rap- 
turously, as she and Evelyn started on their way to 
Lucile’s. 

“Isn’t it great?” Evelyn agreed. “That rain was 
just what we needed.” 

“It reminds me of last spring ” 

“That’s strange.” 

“What?” said Jessie, puzzled. 

“Why, that this spring should remind you of last.” 

“Don’t get flippant, young lady,” said Jessie, se- 
verely, “or I shall be obliged to give you a ducking,” 
19 


20 


Lucile Triumphant 


the river being very convenient just there, as the girls 
had to walk along its shores for some distance before 
turning into Lucile’ s avenue. 

“Please don’t; I had enough of a ducking last year 
in camp when I fell off the rock. Don’t you remem- 
ber?” said Evelyn, with a rueful smile. 

“I should say I do, rather,” laughed Jessie. “No 
one who was there and saw you could ever possibly 
forget it.” 

“Oh, I know I always make an impression,” said 
Evelyn, wilfully misunderstanding. 

For once Jessie could find no suitable retort. “You 
hate yourself, don’t you ?” was all she could say. 

“Not so you could notice it,” said Evelyn, enjoying 
her victory. “It seems to me you were saying some- 
thing when I ” 

“When you so rudely interrupted,” said Jessie, 
sweetly. “I’m not so sure that I will tell you now. 
It was nothing of any importance.” 

“Oh, I knew that,” said Evelyn, quickly — it was cer- 
tainly her lucky day. 

“You win!” cried Jessie, good-naturedly, throwing 
up her hands in mock despair. 

Evelyn laughed merilly. “I’ll have to look out 


A Latter-day Miracle 21 

after this/’ she said. “There’ll be back-fire, Fm 
afraid. But, seriously, Jessie, what were you going 
to say?” 

“Oh, only that this wonderful weather reminds me 
of this time last year when we were just making our 
plans for camp.” 

“Yes, and even then we hadn’t begun to realize 
how great it was going to be." 

“I never knew what real fun was till we got way off 
there in the woods with the river before us and the 
woods all about us. And the very best thing of all was 
that we had only ourselves to depend on for every- 
thing.” 

“And we seemed to get along pretty well, too, con- 
sidering,” said Evelyn. 

“Of course we did,” Jessie agreed, and then added, 
with a laugh, “I think we would be a valuable aid to 
suffrage. Tell everybody how we managed to get 
along without any man’s help.” 

“Oh, but we didn’t,” Evelyn objected. “How about 
Mr. Wescott?” 

“It seems to me we could have gotten along very 
well without any of his help,” retorted Jessie, vindic- 
tively. 


22 Lucile Triumphant 

*Terhaps we could, but — our guardian would tell a 
different story,” said Evelyn, meaningly. 

As she spoke the door of Lucile’s house opened vio- 
lently and Lucile herself came flying to meet them. 
She was dressed all in white and she seemed to the 
girls the very spirit of spring. 

‘‘Oh, girls. I’m so glad you came early,” she cried, 
joyfully. “I was hoping you wo*uld, so we could talk 
things over by ourselves before the others came.” She 
threw an arm about each of the girls and ran them up 
on the porch. 

“We are the first, then?” said Jessie, perching on 
the railing. 

“I told Jessie you would think we had come to 
breakfast,” remarked Evelyn, flinging her hat care- 
lessly into a chair. 

“That’s the way to do it,” said Lucile, sarcastically. 
“It would serve you right if somebody should sit 
on it.” 

“Put it on, Lucy, and let’s see how you look in it.” 
Jessie suggested. 

Lucile laughingly obliged, and the girls gave an in- 
voluntary gasp of delight. 

“Oh, you darling,” cried Evelyn, hugging Lucile so 


A Latter-day Miracle 23 

ecstatically that in her enthusiasm she almost lost her 
balance and nearly fell to the ground beneath. Lu- 
cile clutched her and brought her back to safety. 

“A chair is the safest place for you/’ said her res- 
cuer, laughingly. 

‘‘Take off the hat and everything will be all right,” 
said Jessie. “That was what nearly caused your un- 
doing.” 

“Oh, very well,” Lucile agreed. “For such a little 
thing why quarrel ?” and disappeared within the house. 

“Remember,” said Evelyn, warningly, “remember, 
that hat is mine, and if you dare to put a slur upon 
it I’ll ” 

“Lucy, Lucy,” cried Jessie in a frightened voice, 
“come quick ; she is threatening me !” 

“All right; wait a minute,” came the voice from in- 
side. 

“But I can’t wait a minute,” wailed Jessie ; “she may 
have killed me by that time.” 

“I’ll chance it,” was the calm rejoinder. 

“Well, what ” began Jessie, and Evelyn, glanc- 

ing at her astonished face, broke into a shout of 
laughter. 

“Oh, Lucy, come and see what you’ve done,” she 


24 


Lucile Triumphant 


gasped. '^Oh, Jessie, I never saw you look so funny, 
and that’s saying a good deal.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said Jessie, icily, though 
there was a twinkle in her eye. “Not having a mirror. 
I’m afraid I can’t join in the joke.” 

“No, you are the joke,” countered Evelyn. 

Jessie’s natural sweet temper was fast becoming ruf- 
fled by this rapid fire and she had opened her mouth 
for a sharp retort when Lucile came running out. 

“What’s the matter?” she cried, gaily, and then, at 
sight of Jessie’s face, she stopped. 

“Overdose of hammers,” she diagnosed, then wisely 
changed the subject. 

“If we don’t hurry up, the girls will be here before 
we have a chance to say anything at all about Mrs. 
Wescott.” 

She perched herself upon the railing beside Jessie 
and soon they had forgotten all momentary animosity 
in an animated discussion. 

Five minutes later Lucile exclaimed, “Here come 
Marj., Ruth and Margaret now. I wonder where the 
rest of them are.” 

“Welcome to our city,” said Jessie. “We have great 
news for you, strangers.” 


25 


A Latter-day Miracle 

“So we imagined.’' It was Marjorie Hanlan, a tall, 
dark, good-looking girl, who answered. 

“I couldn’t sleep, wondering what you wanted,” 
chimed in Margaret, the little girl who had been lame, 
but now was just like other girls. 

“And we have all been so happy about you, Mar- 
garet, since Lucy told us the specialist said you were 
cured,” broke in Evelyn. 

“Isn’t it great?” said Marjorie. “Margaret was tell- 
ing us about it on the way up. It seems almost mirac- 
ulous.” 

Margaret flushed happily. “Oh, the doctors say 
there is nothing miraculous about it. They say all I 
wanted was the exercise and healthy outdoor life. But 
I know who really did it,” she added, putting her arm 
about Lucile. “It was you girls — ^yes it was,” she 
insisted, as they started to protest. “You were the 
first I can remember — except father, of course — who 
treated me like a human being and not a curiosity. 
And, oh. I’m so grateful and happy,” she ended. 

Lucile patted the brown head on her shoulder. 

“You give us altogether too much credit, Margaret, 
dear,” she said, unsteadily. “It was Miss Howland 
that thought of it in the first place, and after we knew 


26 


Luclle Triumphant 


you we just couldn’t help loving you for yourself and 
wanting to help.” 

“That’s right,” cried the girls, heartily. 

Margaret glanced around at the sober faces of her 
friends and, although her eyes were still wet, there 
was a little hint of raillery in her voice : 

“Well, I did think you girls had something to do 
with it, but since you say you didn’t, we’ll have to call 
it a miracle, after all.” 

The girls laughed a trifle shakily and Evelyn added, 
“But there’s our guardian, you know.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Margaret, and her voice was very 
tender. “Of course, there’s our guardian. I don’t 
know what we’d ever do without her.” 

“Well, we’ve had to get along without her for al- 
most six months,” Ruth broke in, a trifle pettishly. 

“Yes; I wonder if we’ll ever see her again,” said 
Marjorie. “We were getting along so splendidly when 
that Mr. Wescott ” 

“Oh, don’t be too hard on him,” cautioned Lucile. 
“If we loved her so much, we couldn’t blame him for 
doing the same thing.” 

“I know, but if he’d only waited two or three 
years,” mourned Marjorie. “He came a good deal 


A Latter-day Miracle 27 

too soon, and now I don’t suppose we’ll ever see her 
again.” 

The three conspirators exchanged significant glances 
and Lucile cried, merrily, “Perhaps you’ll change your 
tune in a little while,” and just as the girls were about 
to demand the meaning of this strange remark, she 
added, “Here come the rest of them now,” and flew 
down to welcome them. 

“What on earth ” began Marjorie, and then 

stopped as the remaining girls of the camp-fire Aloea, 
six in all, for they had added two to their number since 
the spring before, ran up on the porch, all talking at 
once and making such a noise that her voice was 
drowned. 

It was quite some time before order was restored 
and Marjorie could again demand an explanation. 

“Now that we are all here, Lucy,” she said, “sup- 
pose you tell us what you meant by that speech of 
yours.” 

“What speech?” said Lucile, for she had forgotten 
it in the excitement of welcoming the new arrivals. 
“I’ll explain anything, but I have to know what it is 
first.” 

“Naturally,” Marjorie agreed. “Perhaps you will 


28 


Lucile Triumphant 


remember that just before the girls came you spoke of 
our changing our tune, or something to that effect, in 
regard to Miss Howland.” 

“Mrs. Wescott, I suppose you mean?” Lucile in- 
quired, blandly. “It seems to me I did say something 
like that. What would you like to know ?” 

“What you meant by it,” shouted Marjorie, and 
Margaret added, “Go ahead, give it to us, Lucy. I 
have an idea that’s what you called us here for.” 

“Smart child,” approved Jessie, with an approving 
pat and nod of the head. “You’re coming right along.” 

Margaret thrilled with a pleasure that was almost 
pain. “She never would have dared say that to me 
before,” she cried to herself, exultantly. “She would 
have been too afraid of hurting me. Now I know 
I’m just like all the rest!” 


CHAPTER IV 


COUNTING THE HOURS 

“You’re right, Margaret,’^ Lucile was saying. “I 
did call you all together just to speak of our guardian.” 

The girls leaned forward eagerly. “What about 
her?” they demanded. 

“Oh, Lucy, don’t keep us waiting,” begged Marjorie.- 
“Is she coming to Burleigh?” 

“Not so fast,” cried Lucile. “Give me half a chance. 
I haven’t heard from our guardian personally, but Phil 

got a letter from Jim the other day and he said ” 

Lucille paused dramatically. 

“Yes, yes; go on,” they demanded, excitedly. 

“And he said that Mr. and Mrs. Wescott were go- 
ing to visit Burleigh very soon.” 

“Soon,” cried Margaret. “That sounds good. Al- 
ways before it’s been something that was going to 
happen in the dim future.” 

“Did she say any special time, Lucy?” Ruth broke 
in, impatiently. 

“No, there was nothing definite about it,” said Lu- 
29 


30 Lucile Triumphant 

cile, ^‘but I expect to hear from her almost any min- 
ute now.” 

“There comes the postman — ^perhaps he will bring 
you a letter,” suggested Evelyn. 

“Oh, what’s the use of raising our hopes?” admon- 
ished Jessie. “There’s just about one chance in a thou- 
sand that the letter will come when we want it.” 

“All we can do is wait,” said Lucile, philo- 
sophically. “In the meantime, suppose we all suggest 
something that we can do to welcome her — make her 
feel how truly glad we are to see her. Somebody sug- 
gest something.” 

“For goodness’ sake, Lucy,” Marjorie exclaimed, 
“you might better have left me out of this. I’m no 
good at all when it comes to using any imagination.” 

“You have probably as much as any of us, and you 
can’t get out of helping that way,” said Lucile, de- 
cidedly. 

“From things she has said, I should give her credit 
for a good deal of imagination,” quoth Jessie, slyly. 

“Oh, I’ll get even for all those awful things you have 
said to me and about me, Jessie Sanderson,” Marjorie 
threatened, good-naturedly. “I’d do it now, only I’m 
too busy trying to think up a plan.” 


Counting the Hours 31 

^'Good girl ; keep it up/' commended Lucile, and 
then, as she caught a murmured “That’s just an ex- 
cuse” from Jessie’s direction, she cried, with a scarcely 
suppressed laugh, “Perhaps you would be doing a lit- 
tle more good in the world, Jessie, if you would follow 
her example.” 

“Bravo!” cried Evelyn. “That’s one for you, Jes- 
sie,” and promptly received a withering glance from 
that young lady, which said as plainly as words, “You 
just wait; there’ll be a day of reckoning, and then ” 

“Here comes the postman,” cried Margaret. “Shall 
I take the mail, Lucy?” 

“Please,” she answered, and a moment later Mar- 
garet handed her half a dozen envelopes, while the 
girls looked on in eager silence. 

“Is it there ?” cried one of the girls, at last. 

“Not yet,” said Lucile, but as she turned over the 
last letter, she uttered a cry of amazement and de- 
light that sent all the girls crowding about her. 

“That is her handwriting,” exclaimed Evelyn, and 
then and there ensued such a babble of wonder and 
delight and excited speculation as to its contents that 
Lucile was finally obliged to shout, “If you will only 
sit down, girls. I’ll see what’s inside, and please stop 


32 


Lucile Triumphant 


making such an unearthly noise — we’ll have the re- 
serves out to quell the riot before we know it.” 

The girls laughed and distributed themselves about 
the porch, as many as could possibly get there crowd- 
ing the rail on either side of Lucile, while they all 
listened with bated breath to what their guardian had 
to say. 

“To Lucile and all my dear camp-fire girls,” read 
Lucile. “I planned to come to Burleigh long ago, as 
you all know, and was bitterly disappointed when I 
was forced at the last minute to change my plans.” 

“So were we,” said Evelyn, and was greeted by a 
chorus of impatient “sh-sh” as Lucile went on : 

“But this time I am as sure as I can ever be of 
anything that my plans won’t fall through. I expect 
to be in Burleigh by the twenty-fifth.” 

“Oh, think of it! That’s day after to-morrow!” 
Margaret exclaimed, rapturously. 

“That’s what it is,” Jessie agreed. 

“Go on, Lucy; what morei has she to say?” de- 
manded another of the girls, and Lucile went on with 
her reading. 

The rest of the letter contained descriptions of her 
travels and all she had seen, ending up with : “When 


Counting the Hours 33 

I see my girls, I will tell you all I have been writing 
now, and a great deal more, and will expect to hear 
more fully than they have been able to write me all 
that has happened to them during the last six months. 
I am counting the hours till I see you all again. Good- 
by till then, dear girls. Your own loving guardian.” 

“That’s all,” Lucile finished. “Now we know when 
she’s coming.” 

“Isn’t she dear, and didn’t the whole thing sound 
just like her?” cried Jessie. 

“Exactly,” agreed Evelyn, and then added, “If she 
is counting the hours till she sees us, I wonder what 
we’ll be doing.” 

“We’ll be making the hours count,” said Lucile. 

“Good for you, Lucy ; that’s what I call efficiency,” 
cried Marjorie. “Make time work for us.” 

“Yes, but how are we going to do it?” said Ruth, 
distrustfully. 

“I’ll tell you,” Lucile answered. “I thought that we 
ought to give our guardian a surprise when she comes. 
She hasn’t been here for so long, and we ought to 
make it something she will remember.” 

“You’ve thought of something, Lucy; I can tell 
that,” said Jessie. “Suppose you let us know about it.” 


34 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Go ahead, Lucy — we’ll let you think for all the rest 
of us,” Marjorie suggested. “You can do it better, 
anyway.” 

“How very kind of you!” mocked Lucile. “I ap- 
preciate your generosity immensely.” 

“Go on; tell us your idea, Lucy,” urged Margaret. 
“Never mind her.” 

“Well, it was only this, and if any one has anything 
better to offer. I’m only too glad to hear about it. I 
thought that you girls could all dress up in your cere- 
monial costumes. In the meantime. I’ll have a fire 
made in the living-room fireplace and then I’ll go to 
meet her.”^ 

“And leave us home?” Evelyn interrupted. 

“Exactly,” said Lucile, firmly. “As I said before. 
I’ll go to meet her and bring her here. Then I’ll take 
her upstairs to get her things off and tell her you girls 
will be here right away.” 

“And we’re to be hidden in some other room, I sup- 
pose,” Marjorie ventured. 

“Uh-huh. Then I’ll get her down into the living- 
room and make her comfortable in front of the 
fire ” 

“Let us hope it’s a cool day,” Margaret interjected. 


35 


Counting the Hours 

‘‘We’ll hope so,” agreed Lucile. “We will have 
plenty of cool days yet, anyway, before spring sets in 
in earnest, and maybe the day after to-morrow will 
be one of them. I’ll get her to sit there, even if it is 
warm.” 

“What then, Lucile?” asked one of the girls. “I 
have a feeling that the most interesting part is yet to 
come.” 

“It is,” said Lucile. “You see, I’ll be talking to her 
so hard that she won’t notice what’s going on around 
her much — that is, if you are careful. Then you come 
in, one by one, on your tip-toes and sit in a semi- 
circle behind her.” 

“Oh, that will be a lark,” cried Evelyn. “And are 
we to wait till she finds us out?” 

“That’s what I was going to tell you,” said Lucile. 
“When you all get settled. I’ll put my hand up to my 
hair like this, and then you begin to sing, very softly, 
‘Oh, fire ’ ” 

“That will be splendid, Lucy; it will seem almost 
like old times,” cried Margaret. “How did you man- 
age to think it all out so beautifully?” 

“Oh, it was simple enough,” said Lucile. “The only 
thing is, do you all like it?” 


36 


Lucile Triumphant 


Lucile was very well satisfied with the reception of 
her plan a moment later. The girls were enthusiastic 
and overwhelmed her with questions until she was 
obliged, for the second time that morning, to say, ‘‘One 
at a time, please.” 

When, finally, all the arrangements were complete 
and satisfactory, one of the girls discovered it was 
after noon. 

“Girls,” exclaimed Evelyn, dismayed, “weVe used 
up the whole morning just talking.” 

“Why, what time is it?” asked Margaret, feeling 
for her watch. 

“It’s twelve fifteen,” announced Evelyn, impres- 
sively. 

“Time I was going home,” Marjorie declared, jump- 
ing up. “Where’s my hat ?” 

“It’s inside with Evelyn’s,” Lucile answered. “If 
I hadn’t taken care of them there would have been 
nothing left resembling a hat. I’ll get them,” she 
added, and ran into the house. 

In a moment she returned with a hat in each hand. 

“What did you want to wear them for, anyway?” 
she said, as they started off. “You didn’t really need 
them, and just think of all the work you made me.” 


Counting the Hours 37 

''Oh, they just wanted to show them oflf,” laughed 
Gertrude Church. 

"Humph, we know why they pretend to criticize us, 
don’t we, Marjorie?” queried Evelyn, with a knowing 
wink. 

"Sure; they’re jealous,” was the laconic reply, at 
which all the girls laughed scornfully. 

"We’d have to have something better than that to 
be jealous of,” scoffed one. 

"Then we’ll see you Monday, Lucy,” called Jessie, 
as they started off down the street. "Maybe before,” 
she added. 

'T can stand it,” laughed Lucile. "Come early Mon- 
day, anyway, all of you, and don’t forget what I told 
you.” 

"We won’t,” they called; "don’t worry!” And, in- 
deed, she had no need for anxiety, for the thought that 
filled the girls’ minds to the exclusion of everything 
else was : 

"Our guardian is coming Monday — oh, why is it so 

far away?” 


CHAPTER V 


AS THOUGH ON WINGS 

The eventful day had come at last over a wait that 
seemed an eternity to the impatient girls. The long 
school-day was endless and, in spite of all good reso- 
lutions, they could not keep their thoughts from wan- 
dering to the alluring picture they had conjured up. 
A picture wherein figured an open-grate fire. Miss 
Howland — for so they had thought of her even after 
her marriage — their own dear guardian, turning sud- 
denly to see her camp-fire girls in their old familiar 
costume waiting to welcome her. How would she 
look ? What would she say ? These were the thoughts 
that persisted in haunting them through the long 
school-day and refused to be shaken off. 

At last it was three o’clock and the girls gathered 
on the campus, books in hand, eagerly anxious to 
be off. 

“Are we all here?” said Jessie, looking about. 

“All but Grace ; she’ll be here any minute, I guess.” 

The prophecy proved correct, and soon the whole 
38 


39 


As Though on Wings 

of camp-fire Aloea, except the one who was to play 
the most important part, were swinging at a great rate 
down the road to their meeting-place. Lucile had been 
excused a few minutes earlier on the plea that she was 
to meet her guardian. The few minutes’ grace would 
give her time to see that the fire was lighted and at- 
tend to the hundred and one minor details that would 
set things running smoothly. 

Rain had been threatening all day, but now the wel- 
come sun burst through the clouds so suddenly that 
the girls were surprised. 

“Say, that came in a hurry, didn’t it?” remarked 
Marjorie. “Oh, I’m so glad.” 

“Who isn’t?” Jessie rejoined. “The rain would 
have made everything so gloomy, just when we wanted 
it brightest.” 

“It seems as if the sun knew^ Miss Howland was 
coming and just couldn’t help shining,” said Margaret, 
with a face so like the sun itself in its radiant bright- 
ness that Marjorie, who was near her, threw her arm 
about the slight form, saying, lovingly, “Even if the 
sun hadn’t come out, Margaret, I don’t think we’d 
have missed it much with you around.” 

“Don’t you remember what Miss Howland always 


40 


Lucile Triumphant 


used to say about there being a great deal more credit 
in being happy and sunny on a gloomy day than a 
bright one?” put in Eleanor. 

‘‘Yes; but, though Fve tried very hard to look cheer- 
ful when the old rain has spoiled all my chances for 
a good time, I’m very much afraid I don’t often suc- 
ceed,” said Evelyn, with a rueful smile. 

“I can’t imagine you in the doleful dumps for very 
long, Evelyn,” said Ruth. “I’ve never seen you any- 
thing but happy yet.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to live with her, Ruth,” said 
Jessie. “If you did, and I’m glad for your sake you 
don’t, you would soon change your opinion.” 

“I’d like to know what you know about it, anyway,” 
Evelyn retorted, gaily. “You’ve never lived with me — 
that I know of, at any rate.” 

“To change the subject,” Marjorie broke in, “there’s 
Lucile waving to us to hurry. I guess she has some- 
thing to tell us before she goes to the station.” 

They broke into a run and in another minute had 
surrounded Lucile. 

“I’m glad you came just as you did,” she was say- 
ing. “It seemed as if you would never get here, and I 
was afraid I would have to go without seeing you.” 


41 


As Though on Wings 

“We hurried just as fast as we could, Lucy, as you 
see,’’ said Jessie, panting from the quick run. 

“Of course you did, but it seemed an age to me. 
Listen, girls,” she went on, “everything’s all ready. 
Your dresses are laid out on the bed in my room, and 
you’d better get them on as soon as you possibly 
can.” 

“You’re going to the station now, Lucy, aren’t 
you?” asked one of the girls. 

“Yes, right away. I suppose we’ll be back again in 
about half an hour. Good-by; I’m off!” and she ran 
down the steps, only to turn at the bottom to add, 
“Don’t forget any of the directions, girls, and don’t 
make the least noise when you come into the room, or 
it will spoil everything. Good-by; I’m off now for 
good.” 

“We’ll do everything just right,” Jessie promised. 

“Good luck!” they called after her as she hurried 
along. 

“She almost seems to be walking on air, doesn’t 
she?” one of them remarked, as she turned for a last 
wave. 

“No wonder,” said Evelyn, gloomily. “She’s going 
to our guardian.” 


42 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Lucy said they would be back in half an hour,” 
sighed Marjorie. “How can we wait that long?” 

“Nobody knows,” Jessie answered, cheerily; “but 
as long as we have to get ready, we might as well be- 
gin now. Come on; let’s see who’ll be dressed 

first girls ” which precipitated a general stampede 

for the door. 

As Lucile hurried along toward the station it really 
seemed as though her feet had wings. The thought 
of meeting her guardian again, of talking to her in 
the old familiar way of the old familiar things — all 
this made her say to herself over and over again, “Oh, 
I don’t believe anybody was ever so happy before.” 
She could see in her mind’s eye that old bright, cheery 
Smile of her guardian flash out as she said, as she had 
said so many times before, “Well, how are my girls 
to-day?” 

To-ot! The shrill wail of the locomotive whistle 
broke rudely through her revery*and brought her to 
a sudden realization that if she didn’t bestir herself, 
Mrs. Wescott would be at the station with no one to 
meet her. 

“Oh,” cried Lucile to herself, “and I thought I was 


As Though on Wings 43 

hurrying just as fast as I could. Well, Tm in for a 
race with the train, it seems. I wonder what the girls 
would say,” she chuckled as she ran. ‘This is almost 
as good as a canoe race.” 

Either the train had been farther off than she 
thought when Lucile heard the whistle or she had run 
faster than she had ever run in her life; the result 
was the same — Lucile won ! 

Just as she breathlessly reached the station, the 
great locomotive came thundering around the last 


curve. 


CHAPTER VI 


“oh, fire, long years ago ” 

Lucile’s heart beat fast as the train came to a 
standstill and a crowd of people began to pour out. 

“Where is she, where is she?” she cried, scanning 
one after another, speaking to those she knew, while, 
at the same time, looking past them with such an in- 
tent gaze that more than one turned to look back at 
her and remark with the shake of a head, “There’s 
something up.” 

Lucile was just about in despair when, at the far end 
of the platform, she descried her. 

With a cry she ran forward and, throwing her arms 
about her guardian’s neck with a little hysterical sob, 
she exclaimed, “Oh, I thought you weren’t coming.” 

For a moment she was held close while the voice 
she loved said, gently, “You don’t suppose I could 
stay away when I had made up my mind to come, do 
you ?” 

“Oh, no; I knew in my heart you would be here,” 

drawing herself away and looking at her guardian 
44 


45 


“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago- 

with such happiness written on her face that Mrs. Wes- 
cott’s bright eyes were dimmed as she said, *‘It’s good 
to have a welcome like this 

‘'Oh, it isn’t anything to what you’re going tQ get,” 
Lucile wanted to say, but she only answered, ruefully, 
“I’m afraid all Burleigh will be talking about how 
boisterous Lucile Payton is becoming. Can’t you 
hear?” she added, gaily: “ ‘I declare, that child’s ter- 
ribly rude ; she almost knocked me down !’ ” 

“A very good imitation of Miss Peabody, Lucile,” 
laughed Mrs. Wescott. “I wonder how many times 
I’ve heard her talk just that way.” 

Miss Peabody was one of the old maids that authors 
lov^ to picture — straight, prim, opinionated, with a 
sharp tongue that wrought discord wherever it went. 
She dealt in other people’s shortcomings, and if Bur- 
leigh had not known her too well to give her false tales 
credence, she might have worked some serious mis- 
chief. As it was, everyone took her gossip with a 
grain of salt, remarking, with a smile and a shrug after 
she had gone away, “Of course, that may be true, but 
remember, Angela Peabody said it!” 

When Lucile chose, she could mimic anyone from 
the young Italian at “Correlli’s” to pompous Mrs. Bel- 


46 Lucile Triumphant 

mont Nevill, who owned millions that she didn’t know 
how to use. So now she had brought Miss Peabody 
before her guardian so vividly that the latter added, in 
surprise, “That must be a recent accomplishment, 
Lucy. You never did that at camp.” 

“At camp I never remembered anybody at Burleigh 
except Mother and Dad and Phil,” said Lucile. “It 
seemed like a different world!” 

“A rather nice kind of world it was, too, wasn’t it ?” 
said her guardian, with a reminiscent smile. 

“Nice?” cried Lucile. “It was glorious! I only 
wish we could do it all over again. It does seem as 
if one good thing comes crowding right on the heels 
of another ever since we decided to form a camp-fire.” 

“It has meant happiness for all of us,” said Mrs. 
Wescott, with a far-away look that Lucile knew how 
to interpret. 

“I know,” she said. “Here we are,” she added, a 
moment later. “Oh, it’s good to have you here at 
last.” 

For answer, her guardian put her arm about Lucile 
and ran lightly up the steps, saying, joyfully, “And it’s 
good to be here, Lucy, dear; but where are all the 
girls ?” 


“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago- 


47 


JJ 

‘^Oh, theyVe coming/’ Lucile answered, vaguely. 
‘‘Come on upstairs and get your things off,” she added, 
guiding *her guest past the living-room adroitly. 

When Lucile ushered her into the great, airy, up- 
stairs sitting-room, she dropped into an easy chair with 
a sigh of content. 

“Oh, Lucy, it is good to be here,” she added. Then, 
for the first time, Lucile had a chance to get “a really 
good look at her,” as she expressed it. 

The wind had loosened her guardian’s dark hair and 
it clung in little ringlets about her face. Her eyes, 
those deep, comprehending, gray eyes, sparkled with 
delight as she took in the familiar objects about her. 
The merry dimples that had always fascinated the 
girls, and others besides, were ever in evidence as she 
talked and laughed happily. 

“I suppose,” she went on, as Lucile took her hat and 
coat. “I suppose you girls had just about made up 
your minds I was never coming to Burleigh; six 
months is such a long time ; but it seemed as if I could 
never get started.” 

“Well, you’re here now,” said Lucile, gaily, “and 
that makes the six months seem like nothing at all.” 

“How are your mother and father and Phil and 


48 


Lucile Triumphant 


everybody?” asked Mrs. Wescott, with a comprehen- 
sive sweep of her hand. “I want to know all about 
everybody.” 

“Oh, they’re all right,” Lucile assured her, and then 
added, as an afterthought, “except, of course, Jim 
Keller’s dog. Bull.” 

“What’s happened to Bull?” inquired young Mrs. 
Wescott, with smiling interest. 

Indeed, everyone in Burleigh knew and feared Bull. 
His ferocity was famous through the countryside, or 
at least, had been until he had met his downfall a few 
days before. 

“Come downstairs and I’ll tell you about it. It is 
still a little chilly upstairs.” 

“All right,” agreed Mrs. Wescott. “Wait a minute; 
I must get my handkerchief first.” 

A moment longer and they were in the spacious liv- 
ing-room, with its big library table and leather-covered 
chairs, and, best of all, a cheerful, glowing fire in the 
grate. 

Mrs. Wescott looked toward the latter in pleased 
surprise. “Isn’t it snug in here?” she said, slipping 
into one of the chairs before the fire. “A fire always 
gives the room a cheerful, homey look.” 


“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago- 


49 


“Oh, I love it!” said Lucile, impulsively. “Ever 
since we came back from camp Tve been wanting to 
make a great big camp-fire. This seems such a poor 
imitation.” 

“I imagine it’s just enough to make you camp-sick,” 
laughed her guardian. '‘But tell me about Bull. I’m 
interested.” 

“Oh, it’s been the talk of Burleigh for days,” said 
the girl. “If you will just turn your chair around so 
you will get a full view of the fire. I’ll tell you 
about it.” 

Her guest did as she was bid and settled back com- 
fortably to enjoy the story. 

“Well,” began Lucile, “the other day Bull and his 
master were walking down Main Street. You know, 
Jim Keller absolutely refuses to keep Bull tied up and 
the only wonder is he — the dog, I mean — hasn’t been 
poisoned long ago, he has so many enemies. Well, 
Bull broke loose from Jim some way and when he 
tried to find him he had disappeared. Jim went rav- 
ing around like a wild man, declaring that, if the dog 
wasn’t found soon, he’d be sure to get into some mis- 
chief.’ ” 


“He showed rare perception.” 


50 Lucile Triumphant 

'That’s what we all thought — at least, you would 
have judged so by the way everybody called their chil- 
dren in, and any one that had a pet cat or dog went 
almost crazy till it was out of harm’s way. Oh, there 
was excitement in Burleigh that day!” 

"I can imagine,” interjected Mrs. Wescott, in huge 
enjoyment of the picture. “Did Jim find him ?” 

“Not for over an hour. He ran over half the 
town, looking everywhere for his Bull. At last a small 
boy came running and told him the dog was over yon- 
der and he was gettin’ a 'turrible lickin’.’ ” 

“Licking?” exclaimed Mrs. Wescott, sitting up 
straight in her surprise. “Bull ?” 

“That was the funny part of it,” Lucile went on. 
“Of course, Jim wouldn’t believe it was his Bull the 
boy was talking about, but he went with him just the 
same. 

“When he turned the corner he came upon a spec- 
tacle that dazed him. He stood with his eyes and 
mouth wide open, gazing at Bull — it was his Bull, but, 
oh, disgraced forever! There he was on his back in 
the dust, with a great collie making flying leaps over 
him. Each time he jumped those terrible nails ripped 
a piece of flesh from poor Bull ” 


“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago- 


51 


‘‘But I never thought a collie had half a chance 
against a bull dog,” Mrs. Wescott interrupted, in- 
credulously. “And such a dog as Bull, at that!” 

“Well, you see, the collie’s owner explained all that 
afterward. He said that Bull couldn’t get at his dog’s 
throat because of his unusually long, thick hair — and, 
as a rule, that’s Bull’s first move, you know.” 

“Catch him by the throat and hang on — yes, I 
know,” her guardian supplemented. “Then what did 
Jim do?” 

“He wanted to go to the rescue. I believe he would 
have tried to pull the collie off with his own hands, 
but a man held him off, crying, ‘ Haven’t you any 
sense, man, to try to separate dogs when they’re 
fighting?’ 

“ ‘Fighting?’ roared Jim. ‘It isn’t a fight — it’s 
slaughter. If he’s your mutt, call him off. Don’t ye 
see he’s killin’ ’im?’ 

“ ‘He is punishing him pretty badly. I’ll admit,’ said 
the stranger, so calmly that Jim nearly exploded. 

“ ‘If you don’t call that dog o’ yourn off,’ he yelled, 
purple with rage, ‘by all that’s holy, I will, and ’twill 
be with a shot-gun.’ 

“The man saw he meant it, so he whistled softly.” 


52 Lucile Triumphant 

''And all this time Bull was being punished?” said 
Mrs. Wescott. 

"Yes ; he was simply down and out. He didn’t seem 
to have the power to move a muscle. When his master 
whistled, the big collie stood still, cocked one ear, and 
then trotted over, as if what he had done to poor Bull 
were just in the day’s work. 

" 'You brute!’ Jim raged. 'I don’t know which is 
worse, you or your dog I” 

"The man only patted his dog, and said, ‘You’ve 
done a good day’s work, old man.’ 

"This last shot’ was lost on Jim, for he was already 
bending over Bull, patting his poor old mangled head 
and calling him all the endearing names he could think 
of. Finally, seeing that Bull was either too weak or 
too ashamed to get up and could only wag his stub of 
a tail, he picked him up very tenderly and started 
for home. 

"That was anything but a triumphal journey. An 
army returning after overwhelming defeat could not 
have attracted more attention than those two old war- 
riors. Heads popped out of every door and window, 
and before he was halfway home he had a train of 
small boys following him. I declare, when I saw the 


53 


“Oh, Fire, Long Years Ago ” 

old man, he was almost crying. When I went up to 
him and patted the dog’s head, he said, brokenly, ‘He’s 
all I’ve got, and now they’ve even gone and done 
him up !’ ” 

“Poor old Jim,” said Mrs. Wescott. “Everyone 
hated Bull, but you can’t help feeling sorry for him 
and his master when they’re down and out.” 

“Oh, it was really pitiful,” said Lucile, “and it made 
me so desperate to see all those thoughtlessly cruel 
boys following him, hooting at him, and laughing at 
him and calling poor old battered Bull all sorts of 
names. So I turned round and looked at them. I saw 
that little Bob Fletcher was one of the crowd. 

“ ‘Bob,’ I said, ‘suppose your Rover had been hurt — 
would you like to be laughed at?’ 

“ ‘I’d like to see anybody that’d try,’ said he, man- 
fully. 

“ ‘Then why do you turn round and make fun of 
Bull when he’s in trouble ? It seems to me you’re act- 
ing mighty like cowards !’ 

“The words had a magical effect. I don’t suppose 
it had struck the boys in that light before, but it was 
more than their manhood could stand to be called 
cowards. 


54 Lucile Triumphant 

We ain’t cowards/ said one, belligerently, ^and 
ril fight anybody that says we are,’ after which they 
all looked sheepish and started off in twos and threes, 
calling to each other that they’d better hurry and fin- 
ish that game in the field — it would be getting dark 
soon!” 

“You always did have a way with the young folks, 
Lucy,” smiled her guardian; “but that was a real act 
of kindness. What did old Jim do?” 

“Oh, he gave me a sort of wintry smile and said, 
‘Thank’ee, little gal. I couldn’t lick the lot of ’em my- 
self, ’count of Bull here !’ Then he stumbled on, mut- 
tering to the dog. 

“Poor old Bull,” Lucile concluded. “His glory had 
departed forever and ever ” 

“Oh, Fire, long years ago ” the words came 

from ten girls’ hearts, low, sweet, and vibrant with 
feeling. 

Their guardian sat as if turned to stone. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE MAGIC CITY 

The last sweet note hesitated, sighed, and softly 
merged in the crackling of the fire, and still their guar- 
dian did not move. 

For a long moment she sat straight and still, her 
hands clutching the arms of her chair, her gaze fixed 
steadily on the tiny, darting flames. Perhaps she saw 
there even more than the girls sensed, for when she 
turned to them, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

‘^Girls, dear girls,” she cried, unsteadily, ‘'what a 
welcome you have given me! And I had begun to 
think you had forgotten all about your guardian,” and 
as she spoke she held out her arms so that the girls 
came rushing. 

Then such a hugging and kissing and asking of 
foolish questions and answering of them in like, but 
delightful, manner, until Mrs. Wescott was forced to 
say, laughingly and in the same old tone they had heard 
so often in camp : 

“Girls, don’t you think it would be better to hear 
one at a time?” 


55 


56 


Lucile Triumphant 


The girls laughed gaily and settled themselves so 
near their guardian that “they couldn’t possibly miss a 
word,” as Jessie explained afterward when describing 
the scene to her mother. 

“Oh, it’s a sight for sore eyes to see all my camp- 
fire girls again,” said Mrs. Wescott, as her eyes trav- 
eled happily over the little group about her. 

Some threw themselves on the floor at her feet, while 
others were curled up on the huge divan, and Marjo- 
rie and Jessie perched on the arms of her chair. But all 
the bright faces were turned toward her with such 
happy and expectant interest that a lump seemed to rise 
in her throat, and she had much ado to speak at all. 

“It is wonderful to have you here after all this 
time,” cried Jessie, snuggling close to her guardian as 
she spoke. “I feel as if any minute you’re likely to 
fade away just as the ghosts and visions do in the mov- 
ing pictures.” 

There was a general laugh, and then Evelyn broke 
in, gallantly. 

“I protest,” she said, stoutly. “I deny that our 
guardian is a ghost.” 

“No; but she is a vision,” said a voice behind them, 
and Lucile slipped noiselessly into the circle. 


The Magic City 57 

'‘Goodness, Lucile, anybody would think you were 
the redskin you look like,’’ commented Dorothy, a 
trifle sharply, for she had started in a most undignified 
manner. 

“See, you frightened the child, Lucile,” said Mar- 
jorie, aggravatingly. “You should be more careful 
with one so young.” 

“What do you call yourself ?” retorted Dorothy, and 
Lucile saw it was high time she took a hand in the 
argument. 

“Don’t tease, Marj,” she admonished. “And don’t 
get mad about nothing. Dotty — I mean Dot,” she cor- 
rected quickly, as Dorothy eyed her menacingly. 

“I don’t wonder she draws the line at Dotty,” 
laughed Jessie. “I haven’t called you that for two 
weeks. Dot; I’ve kept track.” 

“When you haven’t called me that for two years,” 
said Dorothy, graciously, “I’ll begin to think you’re 
improving.” 

“That’s right. Dot,” cried one of the girls, with a 
merry laugh. “Never refuse a helping hand to the 
wicked !” 

“Encourage them once in a while and some time, 
soon or late, you will be rewarded,” chanted Marjorie 


58 Lucile Triumphant 

in a solemn tone that brought a laugh from every- 
one. 

“Lucy was right, just the same,” said Margaret, 
with apparent irrelevance, and the girls turned inquir- 
ing eyes on the speaker as she sat, chin in hand, gaz- 
ing into the fire. 

Somehow, the girls’ faces always sobered when they 
looked at Margaret, and when they spoke to her their 
voices softened to an undernote of tenderness never 
used among themselves. She had won her way stead- 
ily to every girl’s heart. They had marveled at her 
invariable sweetness of temper; they had laughed at 
her quaint, naive sayings, and, most of all, they had 
loved her for the warm, grateful heart that found 
room and to spare for them all. 

So now Evelyn, merry, irresponsible Evelyn, said, 
with a gentleness that caused Mrs. Wescott to look at 
her in surprise : 

“What do you mean, Margaret? Pictures in the 
fire again ?” 

“No; I was just thinking of what Lucy said when 
she first came in, before Dorothy jumped all over her,” 
said Margaret, with a twinkle in her eye that had only 
found its way there of late. 


59 


The Magic City 

^^Jumped all over her? What kind of language do 
you call that, Margaret Pratt Stillman?’' reproved 
Marjorie, with her best grandmother air. “If you 
are not careful, the habit of using slang will grow 
upon you.” 

“Oh, do keep still, Marj, for half a minute, can’t 
you ?” cried Jessie. “I suppose you can’t,” she added, 
“but you might try, anyway. A great many impos- 
sible things come with time.” 

“Speak for yourself, Johnette,” retorted Marjorie. 

“Why the Johnette?” inquired Lucile, with in- 
terest. 

“Feminine for John, of course,” Marjorie explained, 
patiently. 

Jessie broke in upon the laugh that followed. “But 
we haven’t come to the point yet,” she complained. 
“Speak up, Margaret, before some other rude person 
interrupts.” 

“That’s right,” said Lucile, ignoring the irony in 
her tone. “Now is your chance, Peggy.” 

“Why, you said that our guardian was a vision,” 
said Margaret, dreamily. “I quite agree with you.” 

“Come, come, I can’t allow this,” cried the vision, 
gaily, as the girls turned adoring eyes upon her. “I’ve 


60 Lucile Triumphant 

been thinking sundry little thoughts on my own ac- 
count since Fve seen my girls again/’ 

‘^Oh, doesn’t it seem great to be back?” cried Doro- 
thy. ‘‘I know I should be terribly homesick if I stayed 
away six weeks, let alone six months.” 

“Indeed it did. Just the same, New York is fasci- 
nating, with its great buildings, its busy, absorbed 
throng of people, each intent on getting ahead of the 
next one. There is something about it all that draws 
one irresistibly. The very air seems charged with elec- 
tricity, and just to walk down Broadway gave me 
more real excitement and enjoyment than the most 
thrilling play could have done.” Helen Wescott’s face 
flushed and her eyes sparkled as she talked. 

“Go on,” cried Evelyn breathlessly. “Do tell us all 
about it. Oh, I can’t even imagine it !” 

“I don’t believe I could begin to tell you everything 
if I should talk for a month,” she went on. “But I do 
remember a conversation Jack and I had soon after 
our arrival. We were walking up Fifth Avenue one 
exceptionally busy day — I don’t know why I should 
say that, for every day over there seems busier than 
the last — when Jack asked why I was so quiet. ‘Be- 
cause everything else is making so much noise,’ I an- 


The Magic City 61 

swered. Which, indeed, was almost reason enough. 
But when he insisted, I said what had been in my 
thoughts for the past two days : 

‘‘ ‘Fve been wondering, as I looked at all these 
people rushing along as if their lives depended on 
their getting to a certain place on a certain second — 
these people with set faces and eyes that seem to see 
a long way off — I’ve just been wondering what they 
all find to do.’ 

“ ‘My dear,’ said Jack, and he laughed in a way I 
could not understand, ‘it’s easy to see you have lived 
a long way from little old New York, and I’m mighty 
glad you have. I’d rather you would face all these 
people for the first time with me along.’ 

“ ‘But you haven’t answered my question,’ I insisted, 
for I was still filled with wonder at the great throng 
surging past us, whose purpose never seemed to 
change or falter. 

“ ‘You asked what they were all doing,’ said Jack. 
‘Well, for the most part, they are busily and congen- 
ially engaged in doing to the best advantage the next 
poor victim that comes to their net.’ 

“Somehow, that little remark put a different aspect 
on everything and Fifth Avenue didn’t hold quite the 


62 Lucile Triumphant 

same charm for me that it had. Just the same/’ she 
added, brightly, “I like New York mighty well. The 
only thing I didn’t like about it was that it didn’t hold 
my girls, and I did miss you all so much !” 

“Oh, I don’t see how you would ever find time to 
miss anybody with all those wonderful new sights and 
sounds around you all the time,” said Evelyn, naively. 

Marjorie sniffed. “Of course, we know you 
wouldn’t,” said she. 

“I wouldn’t,” said Evelyn, unabashed. “I’d be too 
awfully excited all the time.” 

“Oh, Evelyn, Evelyn !” said Lucile, laughing. 
“Won’t you ever learn to cover up your faults ?” 

“I’ll have to get some first,” she retorted, impishly; 
and the girls, who were in a mood when everything 
strikes them funny, began to laugh. The more they 
laughed, the harder they laughed, and the more they 
tried to stop, the more impossible it became, until 
the whole house rang with merriment. Lucile was the 
first to recover herself. 

“That’s quite enough for some time to come, Eve- 
lyn,” she cried, choking back her laughter. “We all 
know you are wonderful, but please remember that 
no human being is perfect.” 


The Magic City 63 

Gradually they quieted down, with only an occa- 
sional explosion, and Lucile turned to her guardian 
again. 

“I suppose you have gone to all the theaters and 
restaurants and things in the city,” she asked. “Are 
they just as wonderful as people make them out to be?” 

“More,” said Mrs. Wescott, emphatically, dimpling 
happily at her memories. Indeed, she was very young 
and very enthusiastic, and the girls, looking at her, 
thought they had never seen her so entrancingly lovely. 

“It is almost impossible to describe,” she went on. 
“At first you have only a confused impression that the 
world is on fire with electric lights. To ride through 
the crowded theater district at night, with the great 
electric signs blinking at you from all sides — with the 
honking of the motor horns making a very Babel — 
with the crowds on the sidewalk, still hurrying, but for 
such a different reason — men and women in evening 
dress, all bound for one or other of the gay restau- 
rants or theaters close by. And then the theater it- 
self! To walk from the street into the gaily lighted 
lobby, its walls paneled from floor to ceiling with 
great mirrors that reflect lovely women and distin- 
guished men. Then in the theater where the rich 


64 


Lucile Triumphant 


carpet deadens every footfall and you feel rather than 
hear the murmur of many voices speaking softly — the 
subtle rustle of a crowded place — the lights — the 
music — oh, girls, it was wonderful, wonderful! I 
can’t describe it!” 

“Oh, but you have described it — beautifully!” cried 
Lucile. “I feel as if I had been there !” 

“Oh, just to go there once!” breathed Jessie, rap- 
turously. “If I could only see those things once, I 
think I’d be willing to die !” 

The girls raised laughing protests, and Lucile cried, 
“For goodness’ sake, don’t speak of dying yet awhile, 
Jessie. I’m going to see lots before my end comes. 
Oh, if we could only go back with you. Miss How — 
I mean Mrs. Wescott,” she stammered, blushing furi- 
ously at her mistake. 

The lovely guardian of the fire looked down upon 
Lucile, a quizzical smile curling the corners of her 
mouth. 

“I don’t wonder you make that mistake once in a 
while,” she said. “It took me a long while to get used 
to it.” 

“I should think it would seem strange just at first,” 
ventured Margaret, amazed at her own temerity and 


The Magic City 65 

looking up at her guardian shyly. mean not being 
Miss Howland any longer.” 

The other girls laughed and Margaret flushed con- 
fusedly. 

‘‘You shouldn’t say such things, Margaret; it ill 
befits your age,” said Jessie, patronizingly. 

There followed another burst of laughter, out of 
which Margaret’s voice rose defiantly. ‘T don’t care,” 
she cried. “It seemed mighty funny to me to call our 
guardian Mrs. Wescott, and if it seemed strange to 
me, what must it have seemed to her? I was almost 

afraid ” her voice trailed off into silence, and Mrs. 

Wescott prompted, gently, “Afraid of what, dear?” 

“Oh, just afraid that you might be — different.” 

It was the vague, half-formed fear that all the girls 
had felt, yet none had dared express, and the silence 
that followed was pregnant with meaning. 

“Different, Margaret?” their guardian’s voice was 
low and tremulous. “Never! Happier, oh, so very 
much happier, girls; but never changed in my love 
for you except as it grows stronger. Do I seem dif- 
ferent?” she asked, turning swimming eyes upon them. 

“Oh, no — except that you are twice as dear,” cried 
Lucile, and the cry found an echo in each girl’s heart. 


66 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Fm so happy Fm afraid Fm going to have hysterics 
or something/' cried Jessie, dabbing her eyes with a 
square inch or so of handkerchief. “I want to laugh 
and cry, and you can’t do both at once.” 

The girls laughed shakily and Mrs. Wescott said, 
with a gay little laugh, “Here, this will never do. 
Now that that question is settled forever and ever, I 
want to hear what you girls have been doing all this 
time, and what you expect to do this summer. Come, 
who’s first?” 

“Lucile,” cried Dorothy. “You just ask her what 
she intends to do this summer. All our plans are tame 
beside hers.” 

The girls had completely forgotten the wonderful 
topic that had seemed all absorbing before their guar- 
dian’s arrival, but now it took on an added importance, 
and the girls waited eagerly for Lucile’s disclosure. 

“What great plans have you been making now, Lu- 
cile?” said Mrs. Wescott, with that ever-ready interest 
that had won the girls completely. “I can see there 
is something great in the wind. Tell me about it.” 

“Fd never have thought of it if Dorothy hadn’t re- 
minded me,” said Lucile, amazed that it should have 
slipped her mind for two minutes, let alone two hours. 


67 


The Magic City 

“Why, it’s only that Mother and Dad are going to 
Europe this summer and they have decided to take 
Phil and me along with them; and then Dad said I 
might ask Jessie and Evelyn to go with us if they’d 
like to, and so they are coming — to make trouble,” she 
added, slyly. 

“Oh, no doubt of that last,” said Mrs. Wescott, 
laughing, and then added, with enthusiasm, “It cer- 
tainly is splendid for you to have the chance. I know 
your pet hobby has always been to visit Switzerland, 
Lucy, and now you will, provided you get that far. Do 
you suppose you will?” 

“I really don’t know,” said Lucile. “I’ve been too 
stunned by the mere fact of going to Europe to think 
of asking for details. If I have anything to say about 
it, we’ll go to Switzerland, if we don’t go anywhere 
else.” 

“Just hear her talk of Switzerland, as if it were 
just around the corner,” marveled Ruth. “It has al- 
ways seemed to me like some myth or fable.” 

“And you feel as if you ought to speak of it in whis- 
pers,” agreed Marjorie. “That’s the way I feel 
about it.” 

“Oh, I almost forgot about tea,” Lucile interrupted, 


68 Lucile Triumphant 

springing to her feet and making a dash for the door. 
'‘It’s getting late, and everybody must be starved. 
Come on, Jessie, and help me, for goodness’ sake !” 

“Coming,” said Jessie, stopping at the door to make 
a low bow and declaim, “Ladies and gentlemen, we 

crave your indulgence ” 

“You’d better come out here, or I’ll use force,” cried 
Lucile’ s voice from somewhere in the rear, and the 
orator fled precipitately. 


CHAPTER VIII 


ENTER JACK 

It was the last day Lucile and Evelyn and Jessie 
would spend in Burleigh for some time. Since early 
morning they had been so busy they had scarcely found 
time to breathe, and it was not till five o’clock in the 
afternoon that Lucile slammed down the cover of her 
last trunk with a triumphant, “There, that’s done! 
Now, I wonder if I’ve thought of everything.” 

Tired and happy, she flung herself upon the bed, a 
little meditative frown puckering her forehead, and 
began a mental checking up of all the hundred and one 
things she would need. 

“I guess I have all the dresses I’ll want,” she ru- 
minated. “Shoes and combs and brushes and ribbons 
and handkerchiefs — oh, I wonder if I put in my little 
fiowered scarf ; I mustn’t forget that ” 

Then began a frantic searching through bureau 

drawers, during which the scarf failed to come to 

light. Finally she gave it up in despair and turned 

upon the two trunks so fierce a look that the only 
69 


70 Lucile Triumphant 

wonder is they didn’t fade then and there and vanish 
into thin air. 

“You disgusting old things!” she cried, hotly. “I 
suppose you think it’s fun to go all through you again 
and take out all your horrid old trays and everything, 
just to make sure I put that scarf in. I suppose I’ll 
find it way down at the bottom, too.” 

She was on her knees before the smaller of the two 
trunks and had taken out a good deal of the contents, 
still grumbling good-naturedly, when her mother 
came in. 

“What are you talking to yourself about, Lucile? 
I could hear you way down the hall; and what are 
you doing? I thought you had your trunks 
nearly packed.” Mrs. Payton’s voice was irritably 
impatient. 

Lucile sat back on her heels with a joyful, “I’ve 
got it. I’ve got it — and I didn’t have to unpack the 
whole trunk, either!” 

“Got what?” cried Mrs. Payton, sharply. “I asked 
you a question.” 

Lucile sobered instantly. “My scarf,” she answered. 
“I had the trunk all packed, and then I thought of it. 
I guess I have everything else, though.” 


Enter Jack 


71 


“Let us hope so. As soon as you put the things 
back, you had better get ready for to-night. It’s 
pretty late.” 

“All right; I guess I will have to hurry,” Lucile 
agreed, and finished the repacking in silence. 

Five minutes later she flew to the ’phone and called 
up Jessie. 

“Hello!” she cried. “That you, Jessie? I’ve just 
finished packing, and I’ve got to get dressed in a 
hurry. How about you ?” 

“I’m not quite through yet,” came the answer. 
“But I will be pretty soon. Mother came to my rescue 
a few minutes ago, and together we’re making 
things fly.” 

“That’s good; be sure and get there in time. I 
haven’t any idea who will be there, but I guess there’ll 
be quite a crowd. You know. I’m all shaky from ex- 
citement,” she confessed. 

“So am I,” said Jessie. “My hand trembles so I 
can hardly hold the receiver.” 

“I guess it runs in the family,” said Lucile, laugh- 
ing. “Well, you’d better get back to your packing — 
and do hurry, Jess I” 

“Don’t worry! I never knew the meaning of the 


72 Lucile Triumphant 

word till this afternoon. Good-by — oh, wait a minute ! 
What dress are you going to wear?” 

“My new white one, I guess,” said Lucile. “I’ve 
been undecided all afternoon whether to wear that 
or the pale green, but Mother thinks the white is 
prettier.” 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, wear the white one, Lucy. 
I want to wear my blue dress, and I was afraid we 
might clash.” 

“Oh, all right; anything for friendship’s sake,” 
laughed Lucile. “Good-by, Jess — hustle !” 

“I’m glad that’s settled, anyway,” Lucile murmured, 
as she hung up the receiver. “Now I will have to 
rush,” and away she flew to her room, hair rumpled 
and eyes shining, to prepare for the dance. 

The great affair had been originated by their guar- 
dian a few days before in honor of the prospective 
voyagers, and the girls hardly knew what they had 
looked forward to more, their trip to Europe or the 
dance. 

“Oh, you look like the wild man of Borneo,” cried 
Lucile, as she caught a glimpse in her mirror of tum- 
bled curls and sadly rumpled dress. “It’s good you 
don’t have to go to the dance looking that way. They’d 


Enter Jack 


73 


put you out, sure as fate. Well, here goes; let’s see 
how long it will take the wild man to take the form 
of Lucile Floyd Payton.” 

Half an hour later Lucile lifted the dainty mass of 
lace and chiffon from her bed with a sigh of satisfac- 
tion. “When you’re on, then we’ll be all ready. Guess 
I’ll have to get Jane to do it up, though. I don’t know 
just how it goes yet.” 

Jane did the work satisfactorily; so well, in fact, 
that when she gave the girl a little finishing pat and 
announced admiringly that “You surely will be queen 
of the ball to-night, ‘Miss Lucy,” that young lady gave 
an involuntary gasp of delight. 

“Oh, it’s pretty, it’s pretty !” she cried. 

“Indade, an’ it’s not the only thing that has a claim 
to beauty,” said Jane, with an admiring glance at her 
young mistress. “Now, you’d better come down an’ 
get a bite to ate, Miss Lucy, before iveiything gets 
cold. Ye needn’t be worryin’ ’bout yer looks the 
night,” she prophesied. 

“Thanks, Jane,” cried Lucile, gaily. “I got ready 
in pretty good time, after all, didn’t I? Oh, there’s 
the dinner gong and I am not a bit hungry!” 

“Excitement’s no good on an impty stomach,” said 


74 


Lucile Triumphant 


Jane, sagely. ‘Take my advice an’ ate yer fill — ^ye’ll 
be all the better for it.” 

“I’ll do my best,” she promised, and ran lightly 
down the stairs and into the dining-room, where the 
family were already assembled. 

“How do you like it?” she cried, dropping them a 
low curtsey and smiling like a little witch. “It’s the 
first time I’ve had it on. Mother and Dad and Phil — 
how do you like it? Isn’t it becoming?” and she exe- 
cuted several little toe-dances which brought her so 
near Phil that he hugged her impulsively. 

“It’s a peach, and so are you, Lucy. I didn’t know 
you could look like that,” said he, eyeing her jipprov- 
ingly. 

“It’s a beauty,” said her father, but his eyes were 
more for the rosy cheeks and dancing eyes of his little 
girl than they were for the beloved new dress. 

Once, while Lucy and Phil were in the midst of an 
animated discussion about some baseball game or other 
that they had seen recently, Mr. Payton managed a sly 
wink in his wife’s direction that said more plainly than 
any words, “Aren’t you proud of them? And they 
are all ours!” 


Enter Jack 75 

At quarter past eight the first of Mrs. Wescott’s 
young guests began to arrive. They came in relays 
of three and four, all very excited and happy and eager 
for a good time. 

Promptly at eight thirty Lucile and Phil, with 
Jessie and a cousin of hers. Jack Turnbull by name, 
started up the drive to Mrs. Wescott’s beautiful 
home. 

“Doesn’t it look lovely with the lights ail over the 
place?” said Jessie. 

“Yes; especially because it has looked so forsaken 
for the last six months,” Lucile answered. A few 
moments later they reached the door and were ushered 
into the brilliantly lighted hall. 

“Lucy, stay near me, will you?” Jessie urged in a 
nervous whisper. “I don’t know half these people.” 

“Cheer up; we’re all in the same fix,” whispered 
Phil over her shoulder. “We four can stick together, 
anyway.” 

“You have the right idea,” said Jack Turnbull, with 
perhaps a trifle more emphasis than was necessary, 
and with a glance toward Lucile, who had gone for- 
ward to meet her hostess. 

“Oh, he always Jias the right idea,” Jessie chaffed. 


76 Lucile Triumphant 

with a merry glance at Phil, and then she followed 
Lucile to her guardian’s side. 

She greeted her guardian and then looked reproach- 
fully at Lucile. 

^‘Here, just the minute after I ask you not to go 
away, you desert me,” she said. 

^Well, I didn’t go very far,” Lucile consoled. 

Mrs. Wescott laughed. “Go up in my room and 
get your things off, girls,” she directed. “You’ll find 
Margaret and Evelyn up there. Come down as soon 
as you can,” she added, as they started upstairs. “I 
want to introduce you all around.” 

“All right, we’ll hurry,” said Lucile, and then 
squeezed her friend’s hand. “Oh, Jessie, what a 
lark!” she whispered. “We’re in for a good time 
to-night.” 

“You have the right idea, as Jack says,” answered 
Jessie. “Did you see him look at you, Lucy?” 

“Hush! they’re right behind us,” cautioned Lucile. 
“Hello, girls,” she cried, as she entered the room. “I 
don’t see how you managed to get here before us.” 

“Oh, that’s easy,” laughed Evelyn. “How lovely 
you look! Oh, I love your dresses — both of them! 
Are they new?” 


Enter Jack 77 

“Of course they are, or we would have seen them 
before,” said Margaret. 

“Well, we’re not the only ones, anyway,” said Lu- 
cile. “I know yours are new. They’re awfully 
pretty.” 

“We’re all satisfied then,” said Jessie, briskly. 
“Lucy, will you please put this pin in where it will do 
the most good. I never can keep this lock of hair in 
place.” 

“You poor infant!” said Lucile. “Come here and 
let me fix you.” 

Then some strange girls came in and, after a few 
admonitory pats to stubborn bows and ruffles, the girls 
started downstairs. They made a pretty picture as 
they descended the wide staircase together, and as they 
reached the last step their guardian disengaged her- 
self from a laughing group of young folks and came 
forward to meet them with an approving smile. 

“You didn’t stay up there as long as I expected,” 
she laughed. “Now come in and meet everybody.” 

The introductions were soon over, much to every- 
body’s relief, and the girls were surprised to find how 
many of the boys and girls they knew. 

“Why, I know most all of them,” Lucile confided to 


78 Lucile Triumphant 

Jack in a lull. “Those I don’t know to speak to, IVe 
seen over and over again on the street.” 

“That’s 'not strange,” said Jack. “There’s a great 
big crowd and it’s growing larger every minute. Here 
are some new arrivals!” 

“Oh, it’s Marjorie and Dot, with the boys,” she 
cried, jumping up. “Will you excuse me a minute? 
ni be right back,” and she threw him a glance so full 
of sparkling mischief that his heart leaped suddenly 
and unaccountably, and Phil had to speak to him twice 
before he could make himself heard. 

In half an hour the dancing began. The floors of 
the two great rooms that had been thrown open for 
the use of the guests had been polished till they shone, 
and at the far end of the room a platform had been 
erected, upon which sat the musicians, partially 
screened by magnificent palms. The rooms were 
decorated from end to end with flowers and the air 
was heavy with their perfume. 

At an appointed signal the orchestra struck up a one- 
step and at that irresistible summons the boys began a 
mad rush to secure partners. 

“Oh, I didn’t know it would be like this,” murmured 
Jessie. 


Enter Jack 79 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” cried Lucile, and the next in- 
stant a voice at her elbow pleaded, “Give me this dance, 
will you, Lucy?” and she looked up into Jack’s smiling 
face. 

An answering smile flashed out. “Will I?” she 
cried, and led the way, Phil and Jessie following. 

Another instant and she was being whirled away on 
Jack’s arm, and Jack, who had won renown for his 
dancing among his New York associates, thought he 
had never danced with anyone so lovely and so ex' 
quisitely graceful as this friend of Jessie’s. 

“You dance wonderfully,” was Jack’s comment. 
“Anybody could tell you love it.” 

“Oh, I do,” said Lucile, fervently. “There’s noth- 
ing like it.” 

“Nor you,” said Jack, and he believed it. 

The girls never forgot that night. A new world 
seemed to open before them — a world they never knew 
existed. A world filled with bright lights and music, 
where every one danced and laughed and was thrill- 
ingly and unbelievably joyful. 

And Lucile, who had never dreamed of anything 
like this, suddenly found herself the very center of at- 
traction. The crowd was always thickest about her 


80 Lucile Triumphant 

and Jessie and Evelyn, and she was so deluged with 
requests for the next dance that her order was filled 
in no time and Jack had all he could do to squeeze in 
two numbers at the very end. 

Some of the boys, to be perfectly frank, quite a few, 
were awkward and stepped on the toes of her dainty 
little white pumps until they were very nearly black, 
but she was so happy as to be absolutely oblivious of 
such trifles, while the awkward youths fell entirely un- 
der the spell of her sparkling, fun-filled eyes and the 
merry, bubbling iaugh that seemed to overflow from 
sheer joy. 

Once Jessie managed to whisper to her, “Miss — 
Mrs. Wescott didn’t say she was going to have such 
a wonderful affair as this. Were you in the secret, 
Lucy ?” 

“No; there wasn’t any secret. Our guardian just 
did it as a splendid surprise, the dear,” said Lucile, and 
her eyes traveled to where her guardian and her hus- 
band were standing with a group of older people 
who had come in later in the evening to enjoy the 
fun and to help the young Wescotts do the chaper- 
oning. 0 

“She is all right,” agreed Jessie. “And doesn’t Jack 



ANOTHER INSTANT SHE WAS BKIN ) WHIRLED AWAY ON 

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Enter Jack 81 

Wescott look splendid? I believe he’s handsomer now 
than he was in the country.” 

“He is fine looking,” Lucile admitted, grudgingly. 
“Just the same. I’ll never quite forgive him.” 

Jack took Lucile into dinner. It required skillful 
manoeuvering on his part and he never could tell after- 
ward how it happened, but the fact remains that he 
finally succeeded in extricating her from the mob and 
started with her toward the dining-room. 

“Where’s Jessie? I promised to wait for her,” said 
Lucile, half turning round. “She’s lost in the crowd, 
I guess.” 

“Probably,” said Jack, perfectly satisfied with this 
solution. “You needn’t worry about her. Phil will 
see that she finds her way to the dining-room all right.” 

“I shouldn’t wonder,” laughed Lucile, and so the 
matter was settled, to their satisfaction at least. 

After dinner the last few dances passed rapidly — 
far too quickly for the happy young folks. As the 
last notes of “Home, Sweet Home” died away. Jack 
turned to his radiant little partner. 

“It seems to me they cut that dance mighty short,” 
said he. “I wish they would give us an encore.” 

“Yes, aren’t they stingy?” Lucile agreed, as the 


82 


Lucile Triumphant 


frantic applause brought no response from the bored 
musicians, who were already putting away their music. 
“It must be pretty hard for them,’’ she added, as Jack 
started to pilot her toward the door. “They have to 
do all the work while we have the fun.” 

“Yes, but they have the fun of getting paid for it,” 
Jack suggested, practically. 

Lucile laughed. “I never thought of it in that light 
before,” she said, and then added, with a sigh, “Well, 
I suppose it’s all over now.” 

“Sorry?” whispered Jack. 

“Of course; aren’t you?” she countered, with a 
quick upward glance, that fell before his steady gaze. 

Jack answered softly, as several of the girls and boys 
approached, “More sorry than I can make you under- 
stand — now.” 

Lucile thrilled with a new, strange emotion that she 
could not analyze ; she only knew it was absurdly hard 
to look at Jack, and that she was immensely relieved 
when Evelyn greeted her with a merry, “Don’t you 
wish it were beginning all over again, Lucy? I don’t 
feel a bit like going home.” 

“That seems to be the general cry,” broke in Mar- 
jorie. “And to think that you girls are going away 


Enter Jack 


83 


to-morrow!’’ she added. ‘‘You’ll be tired out after to- 
night.” 

“Oh, we re not going till late in the afternoon, so 
we can sleep all we want to in the morning. All the 
packing is done,” said Jessie, reassuringly. 

“But who speaks of sleep?’' broke in Lucile, gaily. 
“I never felt so far from it in all my life.” 

“No, but you’ll feel mighty near it about two o’clock 
to-morrow afternoon, if I’m any judge,” Phil 
prophesied, grimly. 

“Well, everybody knows you’re not,” said Lucile, 
running lightly up the stairs and stopping to make a 
laughing face at her brother over the banister. “Come 
on, girls,” she cried. “Everybody’s going and we 
haven’t even started yet.” 

The girls followed her, laughing merrily, and Phil 
grinned at the fellows. “You can’t get the best of 
Lucy,” he said. 

An hour later Lucile put out the light and crept into 
bed with a sigh. “Such a wonderful time,” she 

breathed, “and he is good looking. Jack ” Then 

she smiled whimsically into the dark. “It must run 
in the name,” she said. 


CHAPTER IX 


HURRAH, FOR EUROPE! 

Lucile Opened one sleepy eye upon the busily tick- 
ing little clock on the table. As she looked, her gaze 
became fixed and she sat up in bed with a startled ex- 
clamation. 

“Eleven o’clock I” she cried. “Oh, it can’t be 1” she 
added, with sudden inspiration, which was clouded 
with disappointment the next minute as the steady 
ticking continued. 

“How silly!” she said, laughing at herself. “Since 
it’s still going, it’s certain that it hasn’t stopped.” With 
which profound remark she slipped out of bed and 
into her dressing gown. 

“Oh, how could I waste so much time in sleep,” she 
marveled, “when to-day means — Europe? Oh, I can 
never wait to get dressed 1” 

She did wait, however, and when she had donned 

her dress and tucked her unruly curls into place, she 

looked as fresh and sweet as a flower. She finished 

her toilet in breathless haste, and as she flung open the 
84 


Hurrah, for Europe! 85 

door of her room she nearly ran into Phil, who was 
tearing down the hall toward her. 

‘‘Hello, Sis; it’s about time you were up,” was his 
greeting. “Mother said to call you if you weren’t. 
Do you know what time it is?” he queried, regarding 
her severely. 

“Yes, I know what time it is. Granddad,” she 
mimicked, and, catching him about the neck, she began 
to do a series of steps not standardized in the Vernon 
Castle repertoire. “Come on, old sobersides,” she 
laughed ; “dance for your life. I’ll be the orchestra.” 

Phil was nothing if not a “sport,” so he grasped his 
sister around the waist and away they went down the 
hall at a great rate, Lucile singing like mad, until the 
sounds of merriment reached Mr. Payton in the 
library and out he came, paper in hand, to have his 
share of the fun. 

He was greeted by a peal of laughter, and Lucile 
cried, “Stop stepping on my toes, Phil, for goodness’ 
sakes ! See, it goes like this.” 

“What’s all the rumpus about ?” thundered Mr. Pay- 
ton, in his hearty voice, and Lucile poked her bright 
face over the banister to smile impishly and threw him 
a kiss. 


86 Lucile Triumphant 

“Dancing, Dad; don’t you want to try?” she chal- 
lenged. 

“Sure,” was the unexpected reply, “only leave a little 
of the stairs, please,” as they came down two steps at 
a time and landed right side up with care. 

Then Mr. Payton was hugged and kissed and 
called a “dear” and dragged into the library, where 
the rugs were rolled up and full preparations made 
for the first dancing lesson. They were in full 
swing, with the Victrola going and Lucile counting 
“One-two-three, one-two-three,” when Mrs. Payton 
came in. 

She looked her disapproval of the disorderly room, 
but when her glance rested on her husband, who 
proved surprisingly light on his feet for so heavy a 
man, her eyes filled with interest and she sat down to 
watch. 

When the record stopped, Lucille turned shining 
eyes on her mother. “Wasn’t that fine. Mother?” 
while Phil burst out with, “Bravo, Dad! I had no 
idea you could do it.” 

“All due to my very able teacher,’' said Mr. Payton, 
modestly. “Don’t you want to try it, Nell?” he asked. 
“It’s more fun than you can imagine. I remember 


Hurrah, for Europe! 87 

that when I first met you there was no better dancer 
on the floor, dear. Come on and try.’’ 

“I always used to love to dance,” Mrs. Payton ad- 
mitted, and that admission was enough for Lucile. 

“I tell you what we’ll do,” she said. “You take 
Mother, Phil, and I’ll take Dad. Oh, what a lark !” 

It was half an hour before the Paytons could bring 
themselves down to a consideration of the sober and 
substantial things of life, and then it took Mrs. Pay- 
ton to do it. 

“Lucile,” she cried, stopping in the middle of a dance 
to gaze upon her daughter, “I don’t believe you’ve had 
a mouthful of anything to eat since you got up, and 
it’s after twelve o’clock.” 

“Oh, I forgot,” said Lucy, and then added naively, 
“Now I come to think of it, though, I am hungry.” 

“Of course you are. Run along and tell Mary to 
make you some toast. That will last you till we all 
have lunch, which will be pretty soon now.” 

“I hope so,” said Phil, who was always ready for 
his three good meals a day. “I begin to feel the rav- 
ages of famine,” he groaned. 

“If you are real good, I may give you a piece of my 
toast,” Lucile promised. 


88 Lucile Triumphant 

‘‘No, don’t, Lucy ; it will only spoil his dinner,” said 
Mrs. Payton. “Dancing does give you an appetite, 
though, doesn’t it?” she added, at which Lucile smiled 
to herself, for it was a very, very loi^ time since she 
had seen her mother unbend so far. 

“If dancing will do it,” she decided, on her way to 
the kitchen, “we’ll dance from here to Jericho,” and 
the firm lines of her mouth showed that she meant it. 

At half past four Phil put on his hat and announced 
his intention of going round for the girls. 

“You needn’t stop for Jessie,” Lucile called after 
him; “nor Evelyn either, for that matter. All their 
folks are coming along to see us off.” 

“I’m going, anyway,” he replied, briefly, and Lu- 
cile called gaily after him, “There’s a reason,” and 
shut the door before he could retort. 

Mrs. Payton met her in the hall. 

“Better get your hat and coat on, Lucy. It’s almost 
time to start.” 

As Lucile ran lightly up the stairs and into her 
room, her heart beat fast and her face flamed with 
excitement. 

“We’re going, we’re going!” she sang, as she slipped 
into her coat and pulled her hat — a perky little affair 


Hurrah, for Europe! 89 

with a blue bow at the side, that held in place a black 
wing set at an aggravating angle — down over one 
eye and then surveyed herself critically. 

^ ‘Guess I’m all right,” she said, pushing a stray lock 
into place with experienced fingers. “Now for my 
gloves and bag and I’ll be ready. Coming, Mother!” 
This last to an impatient command from the lower 
regions. “Will you ask Dad if he took my Gladstone 
bag downstairs?” 

Mr. Payton replied in person that he had, and Lu- 
cile stepped out into the hall and closed the door softly. 
She paused at the head of the stairs to still the tu- 
multuous beating of her heart, for it seemed to her 
that it could be heard a mile away. It was all so new 
and strange and wonderful — and now that their great 
dream was to be realized so soon, she felt more than 
ever that it must be a dream and nothing more. She 
wondered if Jessie and Evelyn were feeling that way, 
too, and then she heard the clamor of voices on the 
porch and knew that they had come. 

Then a sort of panic seized her, as she realized that 
Jack Turnbull would be with them. She knew he 
would, for that had been the last thing he had said to 
her last night — oh, how very far away it seemed! 


90 


Lucile Triumphant 


Half unconsciously, she straightened her little hat and 
ran downstairs, just in time to answer Phil’s urgent, 
‘‘Where’s Lucy ?” with a merry, “Here, Phil ; bag and 
baggage !” 

Everybody turned to greet the radiant little figure, 
and Lucile included them all in her bright, “How’s 
everybody ?” 

“Rather shaky,” Evelyn answered, in an awe- 
struck voice, and everybody laughed good-naturedly. 

“Well, what do you say if we start ?” suggested Mr. 
Payton. “We are all here and we might as well have 
plenty of time. We don’t want to have to hurry.” 

They all agreed, and so, with a great deal of noise 
and laughter, the party started out. Lucile ran back 
to say a word of good-by to Mary and Jane, who, good 
souls, were weeping heartily at the thought of parting 
with the family for so long. With difficulty she man- 
aged to break away from them, and on her way back 
came face to face with — ^Jack! 

“Oh,” she stammered, “I thought they — everybody 
— had gone!” 

“So they have, but I came back to get you and — tell 
you to hurry,” he replied, with a laugh. It was a very 
frank, nice laugh, Lucile decided, and she was very 


91 


Hurrah, for Europe! 

glad he had come back, so she answered him gaily and 
they started out to overtake the others. 

At least, Lucile did, but, after covering a half-block 
at a fast walk, that was almost a run. Jack pro- 
tested. 

‘‘What’s your awful hurry?” he queried, reproach- 
fully. “You have an hour to catch the train, so why 
rush?” 

Lucile opened her eyes wide in feigned astonish- 
ment. 

“Why, I’m only following instructions,” she teased. 
“You told me to hurry, and so I’m trying to.” 

“With great success,” he added, with a smile of 
understanding. “Just the same, you know I didn’t 
mean it that way. I had to see you and I needed some 
excuse. I won’t have a chance to see you for a long, 
long time, you know.” 

Lucile looked up quickly, this time in real surprise. 

“But I thought you were going back to New York 
to-day, anyway,” she said. 

“So I am, but there isn’t the width of the Atlantic 
between New York and Burleigh,” he answered 
meaningly. 

Just then Evelyn turned around and, making a 


92 


Lucile Triumphant 


megaphone of her hand, shouted, '‘Better hurry up; 
we’ll miss the train.” 

“Plenty of time,” Jack threw back, pleasantly. “Got 
half an hour yet.” 

“Aw, there’s something wrong with your watch,” 
Phil retorted. “Next time you buy an Ingersoll, see 
that you get your money’s worth.” 

“Thanks !” drawled Jack, but Lucile looked anxious. 

“Perhaps we would better catch up with the rest ^f 
them,” she suggested. “The front ranks have quite a 
start on us, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.” 

“Oh, all right,” agreed Jack, cheerfully. “Give me 
your hand and we’ll do a hundred-yard dash in record 
time.” 

Lucile took the proffered hand and away they went 
like two happy children, reaching the rest of the party 
a moment later, out of breath but triumphant. 

“Didn’t I tell you we’d break the record?” laughed 
Jack, forgetting for the moment to release her hand. 
“You’re some little runner, too,” he added, admiringly. 

“Speak for yourself,” she threw back, gaily. “That 
was a good run, though. I guess we won’t miss the 
train now.” 

“Not an unmixed blessing,” Jack grumbled, at 


Hurrah, for Europe 1 93 

which they all laughed with such infectious mirth that 
more than one passer-by turned to smile after them. 

They arrived at the station in plenty of time, after 
all, for it was fully fifteen minutes before a distant 
toot announced the coming of the train that was to 
carry them to New York. It had been Mr. Payton’s 
intention in the first place to take passage on one of 
the smaller steamers, but the girls had been so evi- 
dently disappointed, although, to do them credit, they 
had tried their very best not to let him see it, that he 
had changed his plans at the last minute and had de- 
cided to take passage from New York on the great 
steamer ‘‘Mauretania.” 

In talking things over, the girls’ parents and one or 
two of their relatives had decided to take the trip with 
them as far as New York, and from there give them 
a glorious send-off. 

The girls’ desire and curiosity to see the great me- 
tropolis had been heightened by their guardian’s vivid 
recitals of her experiences, and they were on edge with 
expectancy. 

“I wish we were going to spend some time in New 
York,” Phil was saying. “We just shoot in and then 
right out again.” 


94 


Lucile Triumphant 


''You ungrateful heathen!” Lucile chided. "What 
do you expect? Fd like to spend a year in New York, 
too, but we can’t do everything at once.” 

"There speaks the philosopher,” remarked Jessie. 
"Tell them what New York is like. Jack. You ought 
to know, since you have to live there.” 

"There’s only one place I like better,” began Jack, 
but the sentence remained unfinished, for at that min- 
ute the warning shriek of the whistle brought them up 
with a start. 

"Oh, it’s coming, it’s coming!” cried Lucile, with 
a thrill in her voice. "Mother, Dad, have you got 
everything? There it is, coming around the curve! 
Oh-h-h!” 

Then followed the confusion of boarding the train 
and the rush to find their seats, and amid a wondrous 
discord, in which hoarse cries of "All aboard!” the 
raucous shrieks of whistles, and the noisy clangor of 
bells mingled indistinguishably, the great train moved, 
slowed, moved again, and they were off. 


CHAPTER X 


WHIRLED THROUGH THE NIGHT 

Mile after mile, the long train rumbled on over 
shining rails that fell away behind and merged in the 
far-distant sky-line. The first rays of the morning 
sun struck on the brilliant metal and gathered up the 
dazzled sunbeams to scatter them broadcast over hills 
and fields and flying houses. Now and then the hoarse 
whistle of the engine broke the early morning quiet, 
only to be flung back on itself by wood and cave and 
mountainside in a scornful shout of mockery. 

And still the girls slept on in the dreamless, heavy 
sleep of tired girlhood. Of course, not one of the 
three had had the least intention of doing anything so 
commonplace as going to sleep ; in fact, the very idea 
had been vaguely irritating. Had they not looked for- 
ward to this very thing for months — at least, so it 
seemed to them — and it was almost impossible for 
them to have patience with the idiocy of any one who 

could calmly suggest slumber at such a time. And 
95 


96 Lucile Triumphant 

Phil — for it was at him that this Parthian shot had 
been aimed — had evinced remarkable self-control, in 
that he had refused to argue, but had continued to 
smile in an aggravatingly superior manner, which had 

't... 

said more plainly than words : ‘‘You think you mean 
it, no doubt, but I, who am wise, know what simpletons 
you are/^ 

Of course, Phil was right, as they had known in 
their hearts he would be, in spite of all their resolution, 
and it was not until the sun struck through the little 
window and dashed upon Lucile’ s sleeping face in a 
golden shower that she stirred impatiently and brushed 
her hand across her eyes. 

Fifteen minutes later, in dressing gown and cap, 
she pushed aside the curtain into the aisle and crept 
out, meaning to steal a march on the others. She let 
the curtain fall with a little gasp of astonishment, for 
as she looked, two other curtains moved stealthily, 
animated by unseen hands, and two heads popped 
simultaneously into the aisle. Jessie and Evelyn 
looked at each other, then at Lucile, vacantly at first, 
and then, as the truth dawned upon them, they began 
to laugh. 

“Oh,” gasped Lucile, “I thought I was the only one 


Whirled Through the Night 97 

awake, and here you two come along and spoil my 
well-laid plans/’ 

^‘The well-laid plans of mice and men 
Aft gang agley,” 
quoted Jessie. 

“Stop spouting poetry before breakfast,” com- 
manded Evelyn. “You might wait until I get strength 
to bear it.” 

“There she goes I First thing in the morning, too,” 
said Jessie, despairingly. 

Lucile laughed, and, taking each of the disputants 
by an arm, hurried them along the aisle. 

“May I ask our destination?” queried Jessie, with 

#■ 

the utmost politeness. 

“Certainly,” Lucile agreed, cheerfully, and then, as 
no further explanation seemed forthcoming, Jessie 
added, with an air of infinite patience, “Well ?” 

“Go ahead, ask all the questions you like,” said Lu- 
cile, with a twinkle in her eye. “Lm not going to an- 
swer them, though,” and, with a little laugh, she 
pushed her before her into a little room at the farther 
end of the car. 

“A-ha, a mirror!” cried Jessie. “Lucile, I for- 
give all.” 


98 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Thanks,” replied Lucile, laconically. “Even at 
that, you needn’t take up the whole mirror, you know.” 

“Oh, you can look on both sides,” said Jessie, se- 
renely. 

The girls laughed. 

“The only wonder is that we showed almost human 
intelligence in bringing our combs along,” Lucile re- 
marked, after a moment. 

“Not at all,” observed Jessie, grandly. “We only 
followed a very obvious line of reasoning.” 

“A very which?” asked Evelyn, turning round with 
her comb poised in mid-air. “If you must talk, kindly 
speak United States, Jessie.” 

Jessie turned upon her friend a look in which was 
more of pity than of anger. 

“It is evident,” she remarked, sadly, “that there is 
one among us who has never grasped the opportunity 
for learning afforded by our present-day civiliza- 
tion ” 

“Jessie, darling,” broke in Lucile, sweetly, “if you 
don’t come down from your soap box pretty soon. I’m 
afraid we’ll have to resort to force. Much as we 
would hate to,” she added, apologetically. 

Evelyn threw up her hands in desperation. 


99 


Whirled Through the Night 

“You’re just as bad as Jessie, Lucy,” she accused. 
“I’m going in and see if I can’t find peace. The boys 
ought to be up by this time,” she added, slyly. 

The girls laughed as the door slammed behind her, 
and Lucile exclaimed, with a little flourish of her 
comb, “Come on, Jess ; I’m ready for the fray.” And, 
with arms about each other, girl fashion, they followed 
Evelyn into the aisle. 

How could they know on that morning, when their 
hearts were full and their heads light with the heady 
wine of Spring, that before three months had sped, 
they would feel the strands of the mighty web of na- 
tions tighten about them; that they would see the be- 
ginning of the greatest war the world has ever known ? 
Perhaps it was just as well that they were not gifted 
with prophecy, for the grim shadow of war that hung 

menacingly over all Europe would have darkened this 
bright morning and would have tinted all the hills and 
countryside with the grayish hue of impending dis- 
aster. 

As it was, there was no cloud to darken the horizon 
of their exuberant happiness and they gave full rein 
to their high spirits. 

As Evelyn had said, the boys were up when they re- 


100 


Lucile Triumphant 


turned, and they were not the only ones, for the train 
seemed suddenly to have come to life. Voices called 
merrily to each other from different points in the car, 
and everywhere was the stir and bustle of awakened 
and refreshed humanity. 

As Lucile and Jessie made their way through the 
car, they encountered several women, apparently bound 
for the dressing-room. 

‘‘It’s good we got there early,” said Lucile. “If we 
hadn’t, we never would have gotten a chance at the 
mirror.” 

“You’re just right,” laughed Jessie. “There wasn’t 
room enough for three of us, let alone a half a dozen.” 

A moment later they joined a group of their own 
folks at the other end of the car. They flung a merry 
greeting. 

“Well, well, girls,” observed Mr. Payton, catching 
sight of the girls out of the corner of his eye, “we 
thought you were lost.” 

“I didn’t think so,” said Phil. “Evelyn said you 
might be in there half an hour if you had good luck, 
so we didn’t expect you so soon.” 

The girls threw a reproachful look at the traitress, 
who made a defiant little mouth at them. 


Whirled Through the Night 101 

“Well, I had to get even with you some way,” she 
cried. 

Just then Jack, who had been trapped into a dis- 
cussion with some of the men and had been anxiously 
watching for a chance to escape, suddenly finding it, 
excused himself and joined the young folks. 

“What’s the row ?” he asked, casually. 

“Nothing, save that we have a traitress in our 
midst,” declaimed Jessie, dramatically. 

“How exciting!” drawled her cousin. Then, turn- 
ing to Lucile, he inquired, lightly: 

“Did you get any sleep last night, or were the bumps 
too much for you?” 

“The bumps didn’t worry me at all,” she confessed, 
as she smiled whimsically. “In fact, I didn’t know 
there were any.” 

“How about something to eat?” 

It was Mr. Payton who voiced the welcome sugges- 
tion, and there was a prompt shout of approval from 
all hands. 

“You have said it. Dad,” commended Phil. “If we 
start now, we’ll get there before the crowd.” 

So off went the merry company to the dining-car, 
where the tempting odors made them more ravenous 


102 


Lucile Triumphant 


than before, if such a thing were possible, and Phil 
kept on ordering until it seemed as though the rest of 
the passengers would have to go on short commons. 

The early morning passed quickly and it was nc 
time at all before Jack announced to Lucile — for he. 
was never very far from her side — that they would 
reach New York within the next hour. 

Then, as Jack had said, at exactly five minutes of 
nine — the authority for the time being Phil’s belov :d 
chronometer, which he declared, and devoutly believed 
as well, varied hardly a second during the year — the 
train glided smoothly into the station and they had 
reached — New York! 

The girls stood with shining eyes and breath that 
came and went quickly through parted lips. Then, as 
the porter shouted in stentorian tones, “New Yawk — 
all out!” they moved half dazedly through the crowd 
and out on the great platform, where the din half fas- 
cinated, half frightened them. 

“Stick close together, everybody,” Mr. Payton di- 
rected. “It wouldn’t be any joke if we got separated.” 

Lucile had faced many situations and never turned 
a hair, but now the roar of the great metropolis, the 
rumble of the hand-cars on the platform as the heavy 


Whirled Through the Night 103 

baggage was carted to and from the trains, the shriek- 
ing of engine whistles, the hoarse cries of the train- 
bands, all combined in such a m.enacing uproar that 
for a moment she had a wild desire to run and hide 
somewhere, anywhere to get away from the thunder- 
ous din. 

It was only for a second, however, for, as Jack 
slipped a reassuring arm through hers, she looked up 
at him with her old, confident smile. 

“ril see that you don't get lost or run over," he said, 
comfortingly, with that air of protection that all men, 
even very young ones like Jack, love to assume toward 
girls and women, especially pretty ones. 

And it must be noted that from that instant Jack 
Turnbull rose forty good points in Lucile’s estimation. 
It gave her a feeling of grateful security to be piloted 
through the crowd in this masterly fashion. Soon 
they had covered the length of the platform and 
had reached the curb, which was lined with cabs and 
taxis. 

‘'Here, pile in, all of you," Mr. Payton commanded, 
as he looked around to see if they were all there. ‘T 
guess you five young people can manage to squeeze 
into one car. Come, Nellie," to his wife, “you get 


104 Lucile Triumphant 

right in here,” and he proceeded, with the other men, 
to help the ladies into the two waiting cabs. 

“Pretty close quarters,” said Jack, as he slipped into 
the square inch of space between Jessie and Evelyn. 
“I suppose I might have walked,” he was adding, 
doubtfully, when Lucile broke in with a decided, “In- 
deed, you shouldn’t have thought of such a thing! 
What difference does it make if we are a little 
crowded ?” 

“That’s all very well for you, Lucy; you’re not hav- 
ing the breath squeezed out of you,” Jessie began, when 
Phil interrupted, mischievously: 

“Why don’t you change places ? Lucy doesn’t mind 
and you do, Jess.” 

“You have it!” exclaimed Jack, enthusiastically. 
“The first minute I saw you, I said to myself, ‘That 
fellow has brains.’ Come on, Jess; vacate,” and he 
slipped his arm about his cousin, gently lifting her 
from the seat. 

“Go ahead, Lucy,” urged Evelyn from her corner. 

So, with a great deal of merriment, the exchange was 
made, much to the satisfaction of everyone concerned. 

The rest of the journey through the traffic-laden 
streets to the hotel was so vivid a panorama of shift- 


Whirled Through the Night 105 

ing scenes that, to the unaccustomed eyes of the girls, 
it seemed like one confused blur. 

“Oh, are we there already?” Lucile exclaimed, re- 
gretfully, as the taxi stopped abruptly before the great 
white pile of the Hotel McAlpin. “The ride has 
seemed so short!” 

“I wish you were going to stay in New York,” Jack 
whispered, as he helped her to alight. “We’d get my 
car and whiz all around this old city until you’d know 
it better than Burleigh.” 

“Oh, if I only could !” she cried, her eyes alight with 
the very thought. “Wouldn’t it be fun?” 

“You just bet it would,” he agreed, with a warmth 
that brought even a brighter color to her face. 

An instant later they were joined by the others and 
they passed through the imposing entrance. 

In the hotel office the girls drew close together, and 
Lucile said, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, “So 
this is New York!” 

“Do you like it as much as you thought you would?” 
asked Phil, overhearing. 

The girls turned wonder-filled eyes upon him. 

“Oh, much more !” they chorused, with a vehemence 
that left no room for doubt. 


CHAPTER XI 


“all ashore who are going ashore!” 

Three hours later, refreshed and invigorated by a 
most delectable lunch, eaten in the beautiful dining- 
room of the hotel, our travelers were ready for the 
last stage of the preparatory journey. Nothing re- 
mained now but the short ride to the wharf and then — 
the rapture of embarking on the wonderful “Maure- 
tania,” which had hitherto been but a magic name to 
them, breathing of romance and wonder. Then a final 
farewell to their friends, and before them stretched 
the great European continent, holding the un fathomed 
mysteries of thousands of years. 

There was England, upon whose soil, in ancient 
times, the savage Britons fought against great Caesar — 
and lost. There was France, scene of the bloodiest 
revolution that has ever dyed red the pages of his- 
tory — a revolution that proved supreme the tremen- 
dous, onrushing power of the masses. And there was 
Rome itself, where every inch of soil, where every 

nook and cranny of the famous catacombs marked 
io6 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!” 107 


some great historic drama played in the days when ‘'to 
be a Roman were better than a king!” 

With all the romance of the Old World about to 
unfold itself to their enchanted eyes, is it any wonder 
that our girls were eager for the start ? 

“All ready?” said Jack. 

“Oh, Fve been ready and waiting for half an hour 
or more,” laughed Lucile. “I do wish the folks would 
hurry I” 

“Fm afraid you don’t like our great city, you seem 
so anxious to leave it — and me,” he said, with a re- 
proachful side glance. 

“Oh, I do, I do! I love it — the city, I mean!” she 
added, in some confusion, as he glanced at her in- 
quiringly. “It’s all wonderful, and I could spend a 
year here without getting tired ; but as long as we do 
have to leave it, I wish we would hurry,” she added, 
naively. 

“Well, here come your brother and Jessie now, so 
you won’t have much longer to wait — worse luck!” 
said Jack, with a wry smile. “I suppose I may at least 
be allowed the privilege of seeing you safely on board ?” 

Lucile threw him a merry glance as the rest came 
up. “I suppose you may,” she mimicked. 


108 


Lucile Triumphant 


A few minutes later they stepped out of the cab and 
onto a sun-flooded wharf, where confusion reigned su- 
preme. An immense crowd of people stood upon the 
dock, talking, laughing and gesticulating excitedly, 
and every one seemed in the highest of spirits. And, 
indeed, how could they be anything else, thought Lu- 
cile, as she looked about her with dancing eyes; the 
world had never seemed so essentially a place to laugh 
in as it did on this glorious morning. 

“Well, we haven’t very much further to go,” said 
Mr. Payton, beaming genially down upon them. 
“There’s the good ship, ‘Mauretania,’ mates. Neat 
little craft, eh?” 

And, following the direction of his glance, they 
gazed for a second at the towering bulk of the steamer, 
scarcely daring to believe the evidence of their eyes. 

“Say, that’s class!” breathed Phil, reverently, and 
Jessie added, “You could put all of Burleigh in one 
corner and never miss it!” 

They all laughed, and Lucile started forward. “We 
can go on board now, can’t we. Dad ?” she inquired. 

“Sure we can go on board. We’ll have just about 
time to look at our staterooms, if we hurry.” 

Since that was just the very thing everybody was 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!” 109 

most anxious to do, they wasted very little time in fol- 
lowing his suggestion. 

Jack kept close to Lucile’s side as they threaded 
their way through the crowd, and Phil took charge of 
the other two girls. 

As Lucile watched the three, she suddenly broke 
into a little ripple of laughter, and, upon being ques- 
tioned severely as to the reason of such unseemly 
mirth, she said, gaily, “I was just wondering what 
poor Phil will do with three girls, and one his sister, 
at that.” 

Jack laughed amusedly. “It will be pretty hard on 
the poor fellow,” he admitted. “I think I ought to go 
along. I could at least relieve him of his sister.” 

“For which he would be devoutly thankful,” she 
added. 

“No more than I,” said Jack, from which we may 
gather that our friend was much accomplished in the 
gentle art of flattery. However, to do him justice, he 
meant it, and even the most confirmed old bachelor, 
looking at Lucile, must have admitted that he had just 
and sufficient cause. In fact, there were not many who 
did not look at Lucile, who, with flushed cheeks and 
shining eyes, was the very image of radiant happiness. 


110 


Lucile Triumphant 


At last their party had wormed its way through the 
crowd and were waiting at the foot of the gangplank 
for them to come up. 

“Goodness! I had no idea it was so enormous!’’ 
Evelyn was saying. “I’m almost afraid of it.” 

“You’d better stick close to me,” Jessie advised. 
“Then if we get lost, we’ll at least have company.” 

“Don’t let’s stand here, at any rate,” Mrs. Payton 
broke in, impatiently. “Our friends won’t have a min- 
ute to look at our staterooms.” 

“We had to wait for the young folks, my dear,” sug- 
gested Mr. Payton, mildly, and then, as Lucile and 
Jack joined them, he hurried them before him with 
scant ceremony. “We don’t want to lose you,” he ex- 
plained, when they laughingly protested. 

And then, at last, they were on deck, where a 
steward relieved them of their light luggage. 

The girls tried to take in everything at once as they 
followed their guide along the deck and down the 
cabin stairs, but they had at last to give it up as a bad 
job. 

“I feel as if I must be home in Burleigh, dreaming 
all this,” said Jessie. “I’m getting dizzy trying to 
take in all the new impressions.” 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!” Ill 

“Stick close to me, then,” Phil invited. “I’ll be on 
deck when you faint.” 

“Much good that will do Jessie when she is in the 
cabin,” remarked Evelyn, with scathing sarcasm. 

“Oh-h!” groaned the boys in imison, and Jessie 
clapped her hands delightedly, crying, “That’s right, 
Evelyn; give it to them whenever you can.” 

And then all nonsense stopped suddenly as the stew- 
ard paused and, fitting the key in the lock, disclosed the 
stateroom engaged for Mr. and Mrs. Payton. They 
crowded into the room and the girls set about examin- 
ing everything without more ado. 

“Oh, isn’t it splendid?” cried Lucile. “You would 
never dream from the looks of this room that we were 
on board ship. Why, it’s just as complete and com- 
fortable as our rooms at home !” 

“Pretty nifty,” Phil agreed, as his glance traveled 
from the neat brass bed to the dresser and the large, 
inviting chair. 

“I hate to hurry you,” said Mr. Payton, as he pulled 
out his watch, “but as time waits for no man, we will 
have to hustle considerably if we expect to see the other 
two rooms.” 

So, reluctant to leave secrets still to be discovered. 


112 


Lucile Triumphant 


yet anxious to see their own room, the girls filed out, 
talking and laughing all at once, till they reached a 
door a little further down the corridor, which Mr. 
Payton designated as belonging to their stateroom. 

While they waited it seemed to them that never be- 
fore had simple tasks, such as fitting a key into the 
lock, been performed with such exasperating slowness, 
and the girls fairly danced with impatience. The older 
folks smiled indulgently, and Mr. Sanderson chuckled 
as he pulled Evelyn’s ear and inquired inanely ‘‘if she 
were having a good time.” 

He was crushed a moment later by the withering 
scorn from three pairs of merry eyes, and Mrs. Pay- 
ton exclaimed, laughingly, “Such a question ! All you 
have to do is just look at them.” 

Then, at last, the door flew open and they gazed on 
what was to be their very own domain for five days 
at least; and it is safe to say that, in her heart, each 
of the girls wished it were to be twice as long. 

“Oh, isn’t it perfectly, beautifully, wonderfully 
lovely?” cried Jessie, getting more excited with each 
adjective, and when the others laughed merrily at the 
extravagance of her description, she added, defiantly, 
“I don’t care ; it is ! I’ll leave it to any one.” 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!” 113 

“You are right as far as you went, Jessie,” Lucile 
backed her up, “only you didn’t say half enough.” 

“And there’s a full bed and a cot, just as we 
thought,” Evelyn went on with the inventory, “and a 
bea-utiful dresser, and three darling chairs, and — 
and ” she finished incoherently. 

“I’m sorry you all seem so dissatisfied,” said Mr. 
Payton, with so droll an attempt to look gloomy that 
Lucile then and there threw her arms about his neck 
and ■ gave him an ecstatic kis„ crying joyfully, 
“Oh, you are the most wonderful father in all the 
world !” 

“Lucile!” exclaimed her mother warningly, where- 
upon Lucile, who was far too happy to consider con- 
sequences, promptly kissed the astonished lady. “To 
say nothing of Mother!” she cried. 

Much to every one’s surprise, far from being dis- 
pleased, Mrs. Payton seemed rather to enjoy her 
daughter’s impulsive outburst, merely cautioning her 
not to overheat and overexcite herself too much, as 
the day gave promise of being a very hot one. 

“The big portholes make it so nice and light, too,” 
said Jessie, again referring to the stateroom. “Why, 
one wouldn’t even mind being seasick here !” 


114 Lucile Triumphant 

^^Oh, Jessie!” cried Lucile and Evelyn, in dismay, 
and Lucile added, ‘‘I guess it doesn't make much dif- 
ference where you are when you’re seasick. From 
all I have heard, you just about wish you could die.” 

Mr. Payton laughed, and said, reassuringly, “The 
probability is that none of us will be sick, but we 
needn’t worry about it till the time comes, anyway. 
And now,” he added, “I guess, if you young 
people can tear yourselves away, we had better go on 
deck.” 

“But we haven’t seen Phil’s room yet,” Lucile be- 
gan, when that young gentleman interrupted with a 
superior, “Don’t let that worry you. I wouldn’t have 
a lot of girls making a fuss over my quarters.” 

“We probably wouldn’t, anyway,” said Jessie, and 
passed out with her nose in the air. 

“I’ve heard that lemons and salt herring are good 
for seasickness,” Jack teased, as they stepped on deck. 

“Oh, don’t!” Lucile pleaded, puckering her mouth 
at the thought of the lemon. “There is only one com- 
fort,” she added, triumphantly, “and that is, if I am 
seasick, you won’t be here to know it.” 

“That’s cruel,” he laughed back; then added, 
quickly, “But you are going to write to me, any- 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!’’ 115 

way, and tell me all about your experiences, aren’t 
you?” 

“I don’t — ^know,” she answered, doubtfully. ‘‘You 
see, even if Mother were willing, I wouldn’t stay in 
one place very long — and ” 

They were standing near the rail, Jack bending to- 
ward her very earnestly and she, gazing out over the 
crowded wharf, a little confused and very uncertain 
what to do ; and yet, in her girl’s heart, she knew what 
she wanted to do ! 

“If you don’t want to get left, Turnbull, you’d better 
hustle,” sang out Phil. “Everybody’s off that’s 
going.” 

Jack leaned forward and took Lucile’s hand. 
“Please,” he urged. “Just a little short letter — any- 
thing, as long as you write. Won’t you, please ?” 

Then Lucile’s last little barrier gave way and, with 
a quick, half-whispered “All right,” she ran to join her 
father and mother, who had caught the little inter- 
change and had regarded each other with troubled 
eyes. “Perhaps it’s just as well we are going to Eu- 
rope,” Mrs. Payton had said, and Mr. Payton had 
nodded an unusually grave consent. 

Jessie and Evelyn were engrossed in taking leave 


116 Lucile Triumphant 

of their folks, who were half laughing, half crying at 
the thought of parting with them for so long. 

Again the warning cry, “All ashore that are going 
ashore and, with a last hug and kiss and cry of “Take 
care of yourselves and be good,” the ladies, assisted 
by their impatient escorts, hurried down the gangplank 
and were instantly lost to sight among the jostling 
mob down below. 

“Phil, run and get the spy-glasses — quick !” directed 
Mrs. Payton. “They are in the grip in my stateroom. 
Here’s the key — ^hurry!” 

So Phil raced off as directed and the rest were 
pushed up against the rail by the crowd that pressed 
four deep behind them, all striving eagerly for a last 
sight of the dear ones on the wharf. 

“Where are they?” cried Jessie, frantically. “I 

can’t see a soul Oh, yes; there’s Dad’s hat, I 

know — look, he’s waving it ” 

“And there’s your mother, too, Evelyn,” Lucile 
broke in. “See, she’s waving her handkerchief ” 

“Oh, I can see them all now,” said Evelyn, dancing 
up and down excitedly. “They’re all there, oh — 
oh-h ” 


“Here’s Phil,” said Lucile, making room for him, 


“All Ashore Who Are Going Ashore!” 117 

as he wormed his way through. ^‘He didn’t waste 
much time.” 

“Bet your life I didn’t,” said Phil. “How I found 
the place I don’t know — must have been a sort of in- 
stinct, I guess. Here you are. Mother.” 

Then there was a great noise and rattle as the gang- 
plank was pulled up, and a moment later the great 
ship began to draw away ever so slowly and majesti- 
cally, and the great whistle shrieked a blatant blast of 
farewell to the shouting, cheering, handkerchief-wav- 
ing crowd on the wharf. 

“Lucy,” whispered Evelyn, squeezing her friend’s 
arm so tightly that it hurt, “did you ever see anything 
like it?” 

“Oh, it’s great!” said Lucile. “Phil, for goodness’ 
sake, pass us the glasses. I must have one more look 
at them!” 

What she saw was not the crowd of frantic people, 
but one face which stood out, distinct and clear, from 
all the rest — a handsome, frank, boyish face, whose 
owner waved his hat madly in farewell, and she knew 
it was for her! 

Wider and wider grew the stretch of gleaming 
water, until the figures on the dock merged in one ges- 


118 Lucile Triumphant 

ticulating blur and the roar and hubbub died down to 
a confused murmur. 

‘‘Well, we’re off !” said Jessie, and they turned and 
gazed at each other with starry eyes, while a great 
wave of homesickness swept over them. 


CHAPTER XII 


MONSIEUR CHARLOIX 

What’s the matter, Lucy? You look so — 
funny ” 

It was the morning of the second day out and the 
three girls were leaning against the rail, gazing dream- 
ily out over the boundless expanse of ocean. They 
wore natty white middy suits and, with floppy little 
sailor hats shading flushed cheeks and laughing eyes, 
they made an alluringly picturesque little group that 
had attracted much attention from their fellow-pas- 
sengers. 

‘T’m glad you think so,” said Lucile, dryly, in re- 
sponse to Jessie’s question. ‘Tf I look the way I feel 
I must be a very laughable object!” 

A quick glance of consternation passed between Jes- 
sie and Evelyn, and the latter turned to Lucile with 
dismay in her uplifted eyebrows. 

“Seasick?” she inquired in a. still, small voice. 

Lucile nodded grimly. “Rather,” she answered. 
“Guess Fm going to die.” 


120 Lucile Triumphant 

*^Don’t say that/’ begged the girls, stifling a desire 
to laugh and cry at once. 

“Oh, Lucy, dear, what can we do ?” said Jessie, put- 
ting a comforting arm about her friend, whose com- 
plexion had grown a peculiar, greenish-gray color in 
the last few moments. “Don’t you think you had bet- 
ter go below? Maybe if you lie flat on your back you 
will feel better. Come^ dear.” 

“I knew Fd go and spoil everything by getting sea- 
sick,” moaned Lucile, in the same toneless voice, and 
then, as a flash of her old saving humor came to the 
front, she turned to the girls with a suggestion of a 
smile. “I suppose Fll have to come to the lemon and 
herring,” she said. 

She was deathly sick all the rest of that day and 
most of the next, and it was not till near nightfall of 
the second day that she began to feel the first faint 
desire to live. 

Jessie and Evelyn had wandered about aimlessly all 
the time, looking, as Phil said, as if some one had 
just pronounced a death sentence upon them. Though 
they had become acquainted with a great many of the 
passengers, no one of them had been able to coax a 
smile to the girls’ long faces. In spite of Phil’s uncivil 


Monsieur Charloix 121 

remarks, it must be noted that even the wondrous en- 
gine-room had lost much of its charm for him and he 
had cut his visit short, merely to ask if they, meaning 
his father and mother, thought it would not help some 
to get Lucile on deck — fresh air — etc., etc. 

Toward evening the cause of all this unrest opened 
heavy eyes upon a tossing gray world and turned her 
head languidly toward the porthole. 

At the slight sound, Evelyn, who had been sitting, 
chin in hand, gazing gloomily out to sea, rose quickly 
and ran to the side of the bed. 

‘‘Are you better, dear?” she said, softly, stroking 
Lucile’ s dark hair back from her forehead with gentle 
fingers. “You went to sleep and I was so afraid of 
disturbing you that I didn’t dare move.” 

Lucile caught her friend’s hand and pressed it to 
her cheek. “You and Jessie have been darling to me 
— both of you,” she cried, warmly, and Evelyn dropped 
to her knees beside the bed. 

“Oh, that sounds like our old Lucy,” she exulted. 
“You are feeling better, aren’t you, dear?” 

“Lots,” said Lucile, smiling up at her friend. 

Then Jessie came running in and they hugged each 
other and laughed and cried after the dear and 


122 Lucile Triumphant 

foolish manner of all girls, until a gentle knock dis- 
turbed them and brought Jessie to her feet with a 
start. 

“Oh, I promised Phil Fd come right back and tell 
him if you were awake, and I never did,” she cried, in 
consternation. 

But, upon opening the door, the visitors proved not 
to be a wrathful and avenging young god, but Mr. and 
Mrs. Payton, coming to inquire after the patient’s 
health. 

“Hello !” said Mr. Payton, as Jessie gave a relieved 
sigh. “We came down to see a sick girl and we find 
a rank impostor in her place.” 

“Aren’t you disappointed ?” gibed his daughter. “Is 
that you, Mother? It’s so dark in that corner I can 
hardly see.” 

Her mother’s answer was a very comforting one, 
for she took Lucile in her arms and kissed her gently. 

“I’m glad you are feeling better, my dear,” she said. 
“It will do you good to get on deck as soon as possible. 
The salt air works wonders.” 

So it was decided that Lucile should have a light 
supper brought her in the cabin, for she was beginning 
to develop an appetite, after which she was to go on 


Monsieur Charloix 


123 


deck and test the revivifying power of salt sea air, 
mixed with a little soft moonlight, for Phil had laugh- 
ingly prophesied that there would be “a peach of a 
moon to-night.” 

When Lucile, pale of face and lips and a trifle shaky 
and trembly on her feet, stepped from her cabin into 
the full beauty of a cloudless night, she turned to her 
friends with the first smile they had seen for ages — 
or so it seemed to them. 

“Girls, it’s good to be alive again!” she stated, fer- 
vently. 

“Huh, you haven’t been dead yet,” grunted Phil. 

“Well, I thought I was going to die, which is as 
bad,” she retorted, with spirit. “But I’m going to 
live now, my brother, if only to disappoint you,” she 
added. 

“My, what a disposition!” said Evelyn, with a sad 
shake of her head, and Jessie murmured, with an en- 
couraging pat, “Cheer up, Lucy; you are far from 
being a dead one yet.” 

Lucile sank into the chair they had so carefully pre- 
pared for her with a low laugh. “They are all pickin’ 
on me,” she vSaid, plaintively. “But what do we care, 
on such a night? Just look at that sky,” and, leaning 


124 Lucile Triumphant 

forward, with her hand on the rail, she let her gaze 
wander hungrily out over the water, where the long, 
graceful combers caught the reflected, starry light and 
passed it on till it merged in the silvery pathway of the 
moon, which, as Phil had prophesied, was at its height. 
She sat quite still, realizing as she had never done be- 
fore the utter grandeur, the awe-inspiring majesty of 
the ocean. 

“It’s enough to make one sentimental^ isn’t it?” said 
Jessie, at her elbow. “Wouldn’t it be nice if Jack were 
here?” she added, innocently. 

“Oh, bother !” said Lucile, leaning back with a con- 
tented sigh. “He would spoil everything. He would 
probably want to talk, and I can’t.” 

“Oh,” said Jessie, silenced, but unconvinced. 

However, they were not destined to enjoy the beauty 
of the night in peace, for it was not long before the 
after-dinner crowd began to pour out on deck and the 
girls were surrounded by friendly, interested fellow- 
passengers, who inquired solicitously after Lucile’s 
health. 

Lucile was surprised and touched by these demon- 
strations, and it was not long before she was chatting 
naturally and merrily with a jolly little group to whom 


Monsieur Charloix 125 

her father had laughingly introduced her as ^'the con- 
valescent.” 

“Do you see that young man coming toward us?” 
said Evelyn, nodding in the direction of a tall, spare 
young fellow, who, with his shock of black hair, long, 
aquiline nose, and sensitive, thin-lipped mouth, looked 
decidedly temperamental, even to the most casual ob- 
server. 

Lucile nodded. “What about him?” she asked. 

“He’s a Frenchman,” adding, with a mysterious 
shake of her head, “Thereby hangs a tale.” 

Much to Lucile’s secret annoyance, the young man 
at her right claimed her attention at that important 
moment, asking her, inanely, or so she thought, if she 
could swim. 

It was not until an hour later, when most of the pas- 
sengers had drifted off to different, and often more 
secluded, parts of the deck, and only three or four re- 
mained with them, that Lucile had an opportunity to 
question her friend. 

“I hate mysteries, Evelyn,” she whispered. “What 
did you mean by ‘thereby hangs a tale’? Explain 
yourself.” 

“I can’t just now,” answered Evelyn. “He might 


126 Lucile Triumphant 

hear us. Anyway, I don’t know very much to tell. 
He would probably explain for himself if only those 
old stick-plasters would go away and tend to their 
own affairs,” and she glared belligerently at the three 
unconscious gentlemen and young Monsieur Charloix, 
the Frenchman. 

‘‘No chance — they’re glued!” said Jessie, gloomily, 
and Lucile looked from one to the other of them de- 
spairingly. 

“I wish I knew what you were getting at,” she 
sighed. 

“Mademoiselle has been very seek?” the voice was 
low, caressing, with the slightest suggestion of a for- 
eign accent. 

Lucile turned her head and found herself looking 
into the bright, restless eyes of the mysterious stranger. 

For the first moment she was startled and a little 
confused, but the next instant, recovering herself, she 
answered, gravely, “Yes, I have been rather under the 
weather for a couple of days,” and she added, 
with her bright smile, “The thing that bothers me 
most is the thought of what I have missed during that 
time.” 

“Mademoiselle is brave,” he smiled back. “Most 


Monsieur Charloix 


127 


would think only of their sufferings. However, there 
are still two good days in which to see everything.” 

“Two days?” sighed Lucile. “It seems to me as if 
it would take two years to see all Td like to.” 

“Ah, but it is Mademoiselle’s first voyage.” There 
was an undertone of sadness in the low voice that 
made Lucile steal a quick glance at him. There was 
something about the man, perhaps in the tired droop 
of his shoulders, perhaps something in the wistful way 
he had of looking far out to sea, as if seeking the so- 
lution of his problem there; perhaps it was only the 
pathos in his low. Southern voice. Be that as it may, 
Lucile’s heart went out to him then and there. 

“When one has been back and forth, back and forth, 
many times,” he went on, “he is bound to lose that so 
fresh enthusiasm and long only for the shore where 
something may be done. At such times the days, they 
seem to have no end. But I transgress,” he inter- 
rupted himself, with a little deprecatory laugh. 
“Mademoiselle should have reminded me.” 

“You speak of having crossed the ocean many 
times,” said Mr. Payton, who, with his wife, had ap- 
proached the absorbed little group unknown to them. 

Monsieur Charloix arose from his chair quickly and 


128 Lucile Triumphant 

offered it, with a Frenchman’s elaborate courtesy, to 
Mrs. Payton. When they were again seated, this time 
in a cozy little semicircle, Mr. Payton repeated his 
question and the girls listened eagerly for the reply. 

‘‘Didn’t I tell you?” Jessie managed to whisper. 
“Now we are going to have the story.” 

“Yes,” came, in the gentle, modulated tones, “Mon- 
sieur is right ; I am not a stranger to America.” 

“And you like our country ?” said Mrs. Payton, add- 
ing, with a laugh, “Do not be afraid to tell the truth ; 
we shall not be offended.” 

“Ah, but that is where Madam does me great injus- 
tice,” said the stranger, with a smile. “There is no 
country in the world for which I have so great respect 
and admiration as I have for your great America. It 
has been my misfortune that, in my flying visits, I have 
had so little time and opportunity to make the ac- 
quaintance of so great a nation.” 

“Hip-hip-hooray!” cried Phil, the irrepressible, tak- 
ing possession of the chair next to Jessie. “It’s good 
to have the old country boosted when you’re so far 
away.” 

“Phil,” protested his mother, “I do wish you could 
get along without so much slang.” 


Monsieur Charloix 


129 


‘‘He’ll be engaging an interpreter next/^ murmured 
Jessie, at which the culprit looked his reproach. 

“I hope you will pardon the interruption, Monsieur 
Charloix,” said Mrs. Payton, apologetically, and her 
husband added, “Our one excuse for Phil is that he 
is young and still has much to learn, although it 
is mighty hard to convince him of the truth of that 
last fact,” at which scathing remark, delivered with 
a twinkle that was lost in the dark, Phil looked 
almost cast down, until Jessie declared in a whis- 
peer “that she loved slang,” accompanying the declar- 
ation with a comforting little pat that cheered him 
immensely. 

“No apologies, Madame and Monsieur,” the 
Frenchman was saying. “I was once a boy myself. 
The slang has many advantages which the more 
flowery language has not; it is, at least, much to the 
point.” 

“If he would only use it, he might reach the point 
sooner,” complained Jessie, in an aside. 

‘T’d be happy if I only knew what point you wanted 
him to get to,” sighed Lucile. “You see, I am com- 
pletely in the dark.” 

' 5^ “ ‘Listen, my children, and you shall hear,’ ” Jessie 


130 Lucile Triumphant 

broke in, still in an undertone. “Methinks the story 

is about to unfold itself ’’ 

“Sh-h!” said Lucile, warningly. ‘‘Listen!’^ 

Mr. Payton was speaking. “You say the will can- 
not be found?” 

Four pairs of bright young eyes centered upon the 
stranger with eager intensity as they waited for his 
reply. 


CHAPTER XIII 


ROMANCE 

The moist, salt-laden breeze fanned their hot faces 
gratefully. The musical tap-tap of the waves against 
the side of the ship came to them as from a great dis- 
tance, and even the voices and laughter of the pas- 
sengers seemed, somehow, strangely remote. 

The stranger brought his gaze back to them with 
an effort, as he said, wearily, “Monsieur, I am tired — 
you cannot know how much. But I had not meant to 

bore you with my so selfish perplexities 

“Sometimes to tell our troubles is half the cure,’' 
Mrs. Payton suggested, gently. 

“You are very— good,” murmured the stranger, 

gratefully. “If you are sure it will not tire ” 

Then, at their vigorous denials, he proceeded, in his 
low, even voice : “Sometimes I have felt the great ne- 
cessity of telling all to some one — some one who would 
understand. If I did not, I felt I should go mad.” He 
passed his hand over his eyes with an infinitely weary 
gesture. 


132 


Lucile Triumphant 


'‘You see, my father and I, we had long been 
estranged. Not even in my earliest childhood have I 
the memory of a gentle word, a fatherly pressure of 
the hand. So I grew to young manhood with no 
knowledge of a mother’s or father’s love — for my 
mother,” here his voice lowered, reverently, “died 
when I was born. My childhood was of the utmost 
loneliness, for my father thought the children with 
whom I wished to associate were too far beneath me 
in social station. .My sole companion was the old 
dame who took care of the house — the one person in 
the world of whom my father seemed to have fear. 
So the miserable years dragged by. When I had just 
begun to make some plans by which I might escape 
from this dungeon they so falsely called my home — 
just at the time I was most despairing — like a joyful, 
radiant rift of sunlight in a clouded sky, came — my 
Jeanette. Oh, if you could but see her!” 

Under cover of the dark the girls’ hands sought and 
clasped convulsively, but no one spoke. 

“I cannot attempt to describe one so gay, so beauti- 
ful, so lovely. She seemed like a spirit from another 
world — a far dearer, happier world than I had ever 
thought to exist. Ah, how I loved her, and she — ah, 


Romance 133 

she loved me, and for a while we were, oh, Monsieur, 

so divinely, so unthinkably happy ” His voice 

broke and again his gaze wandered dreamily out into 
the night. 

“And who was the girl ?” Lucile prompted, eagerly. 

“Ah, Mademoiselle, that was the rock upon which 
all our dreams were wrecked. My father would but 
reply sourly to any question I might venture that my 
fair Jeanette was the ward of a friend who, on his 
death-bed, had bequeathed her to his clemency — the 
fool! 

“As for my Jeanette herself, she told me all she 
knew about herself, which, in fact, was little enough. 
She had lived with her guardian and his faithful old 
servant for ever since she could remember, and had 
been very happy. The chateau where she lived was 
a pretty, open place, with gardens all about and beau- 
tiful woods on either side, where one could roam for 
hours, becoming acquainted with the little folk of the 
wood — this my little Jeanette did, not feeling the need 
of human companionship as had I. When, upon rare 
occasions, she had questioned her guardian as to the 
identity of her parents, he had answered with a most 
strange reticence that she must not bother her head 


134 Lucile Triumphant 

about such matters, but to wait till she was twenty-one, 
when she would know all. Naturally, the child be- 
lieved and did as she was bid, but the maiden won- 
dered and began to brood in secret. In time she began 
to form great plans wherein she might discover her 
identity, and perhaps, who knows, she might find her- 
self to be a duke’s daughter — such things happened 
with the utmost frequency in the books which she 
read. 

“So spoke my little Jeanette, and I encouraged her 
in this fancy and became, if anything, more eager than 
herself to solve the mystery of her parentage. 

“So the days and weeks fled by so happy, till once 
again those plans began to take form and shape that 
had so long laid dormant after the arrival of Jeanette. 
The voice of my manhood urged me insistently to 
throw off the fetters that bound me and advance 
bravely into the seething world of men and from it 
wrest the so well-earned fruit of my endeavor — for I 
was ambitious and rebelled at being shut within four 
walls, where each detail of my life was arranged for 
me as if I had still been a child. 

“Yet I liked little the thought of leaving my sweet 
Jeanette alone in that gloomy house. But, on the other 


Romance 


135 


hand, how could I aspire to help if I remained at 

home ? 

“That night Jeanette and I talked long — ah, I shall 
never forget it ! — and it was then she urged, with tears 
of earnestness in her dear eyes, not to think of her, 
but to do as I judged best. I have seen her as she 
looked that night so many, many weary days !” 

Here there was a long pause in the narrative, and 
it was not till Mr. Payton prompted, softly, “And 
then ” 

“Well, then. Monsieur, events flowed along easily 
enough till it was about a week to the time we had 
set for my departure. Then, one night, I came upon 
Jeanette suddenly and, to my great alarm and dismay, 
I discovered her in tears. 

“ ‘Jeanne !’ I cried. ‘My little Jeanne, tell me what 
is wrong!’ 

“But she would not answer me, only sobbing out in 
a way that broke my heart that ‘I must go away, and 
never, never see her again!’ 

“Then it was, while I was still stunned and stupefied 
by the change in her, that a servant brought me a mes- 
sage from my father. He* wished to see me on the 
instant. 


136 Lucile Triumphant 

‘1 made one last, agonized appeal to Jeanette, but 
she kept her face averted and answered me nothing, 
and I, stricken, bewildered, hardly knowing what I 
did, followed the servant to my father’s rooms. 

‘‘I found him pacing the room with an angry scowl 
upon his face and an air that augured ill for me. Far 
from being taken aback, I welcomed this attitude of my 
father. I felt, somehow, that he was to blame for the 
tears of my Jeanette. I could have fallen upon him, 
doing him bodily injury, so great and terrible was my 
anger. With an effort, I conquered this first mad im- 
pulse and waited, with hands so tightly clenched that 
the nails bit deep into the flesh. 

“I had not long to wait. At the sound of the open- 
ing door my father whirled and, with an imperious 
gesture, ordered the servant to retire. When the door 
was closed behind the man, my father burst out, furi- 
ously, ‘So you have been deceiving me, lying to me 
in my own house. You need not start and look sur- 
prised, for what I have not seen with my own eyes 
has been faithfully retailed to me through one I can 
trust.’ 

“I fear I must have appeared most stupid, for sud- 
denly my brain refused to act naturally. How was it 


Romance 


137 


possible for my father to find out this — my so great 
secret? Surely, I had taken every precaution. But 
my father’s voice broke in rudely upon my bewilder- 
ment. 

'“Have you nothing to say?’ said he, furiously. 
‘Must you stand there like a dog, a monkey, a piece of 
wood, and make no attempt to defend yourself? Ah, 
to have reared such a son !’ 

“Suddenly, in a flash, came my wits again. In an 
instant I had drawn myself to my full height and stood 
regarding calmly my enraged father. Ah, that I have 

not one kind thought — one gentle memory ” 

Again the stranger paused, and the girls felt the under- 
note of tragedy in his voice. Instinctively, Lucile 
glanced at her own father where he sat, knees crossed, 
cigar in hand, listening attentively, and her heart gave 
a great, warm throb as she whispered, “Dear old 
Dad!” 

“Well,” said the Frenchman, with a shrug of his 
shoulders, “there is not much more to tell, though it 
may mean the wrecking of two lives, mine and that 
of Jeanette. My father and I had many words, calm 
on my part, enraged on his, and during the interview 
I learned that our secret had been discovered by that 


138 


Lucile Triumphant 


old witch, the housekeeper, the week before, when 
Jeanette and I had had our never-to-be-forgotten con- 
versation. For some unknown reason she had kept 
the discovery to herself till the day before. 

‘‘ ‘So you meant to marry Jeanette ?’ my father flung 
at me. 

“ ‘Oui, Monsieur, mon pere,’ I answered, still calmly, 
‘and if Jeanette will do me the great honor to become 
my wife, I have not in the least altered my deter- 
mination.’ 

“ ‘Ah !’ cried my father, stung by my calm. ‘But 
she will not have you — Jeanette. She has too mucK 
pride !’ 

“ ‘What do you mean ?’ I cried, shaken out of my 
composure for the first time. ‘Explain quickly; my 
patience is almost at an end.’ 

“ ‘Ah, if that is all, my impatient son,’ said my 
father, lowering his voice, craftily, ‘you will soon 
know far too much for your peace of mind!’ 

“ ‘Explain !’ I cried, my wrath rising to fever heat. 
I towered above him, white with rage, and he, seeming 
to realize for the first time I was no longer a child, 
retreated nervously. 

“ ‘You have often asked about the parents of Jean- 


Romance 


139 


ette, and now I think it is but right you should know 
all’ 

“ 'Ah!’ I cried, joyfully. 'At last!’ 

" 'But there is little cause for rejoicing,’ said my 
father, lowering his voice till it was scarce above a 
whisper. 'What would you say, my son, if I were to 
tell you that the father of your fair Jeanette was — a 
thief F Ah, the evilness of that smile! How I hated 
him at that moment! 

" 'Sir,’ said I, 'no such statement will I give belief 

till it has been proven to me beyond all doubt, and ’ 

I leaned forward, speaking with intensity, 'you have 
yet to understand that were Jeanette’s father doubly 
a thief, still would Jeanette be Jeanette, and the more 
obstacles you set in our path, only the more determined 
shall I become to wed her — if she will have me.’ 

" 'Ah, but that is the question,’ sneered my father. 
'It seems you know not your Jeanette so well, after 
all, for you have left her natural pride outside your 
fine calculations. Suppose she will not have you, what 
then, eh?’ 

" 'Ah, then you have told her !’ I cried, choking with 
rage at my father — with pity and a great longing to 
hold my love in my arms and dry away her tears. 


140 Lucile Triumphant 

‘Why could you not have spared the child that knowl- 
edge? Oh, Jeanette!’ I cried, and flung myself against 
the door; then, turning, met my father’s sneering look 
with one of bitter defiance. 1 will see Jeanette first,’ I 
said, tensely. ‘And then, my father, we will have a 
short reckoning,’ and, going out, I slammed the door 
upon his sneering face and flung myself down the 
stairs in search of my love. 

“ ‘Jeanette,’ I cried, implored, ‘Come lo me 1’ and 
ran from room to room, when, not finding her, I be- 
came frantic and knocked wildly upon the door of her 
own room, calling to her aloud. But she was not 
there, nor could I find her anywhere. Her room 
showed evidence of a hurried packing — small things 
strewn here and there; but her sweet presence, that 
had filled the gloomy house with sunshine, had fled, 
where, where, I could not tell!” Here the speaker’s 
voice trailed off and came to a stop. Then he turned 
to the group about him, saying, half questioningly, half 
apologetically, “I fear to tire you with this so long 
tale. After all, I suppose it is interesting only when 
applied to one’s self.” 

“Oh, no!” cried Lucile, impulsively, while her eyes 
shone with eagerness. “Please go on!” 


Romance 


141 


“You are good, Mademoiselle,” murmured the 
Frenchman, and went on with his story : 

“Well, I sat down outside her door and wept like a 
child, for to me the world seemed ended; but then, 
drawing myself together, and angry at what I termed 
my miserable weakness, I set to work earnestly, dog- 
gedly, to find some way out of this great chain of 
circumstances that bound me. Where to find Jean- 
ette? My brain reeled with the schemes and plans 
that came crowding upon me, only to be rejected one 
by one as improbable, fantastic, children of an over- 
wrought imagination. 

“At last, one idea became fixed in my mind. The 
thought came to me and stayed persistently that, in 
her great extremity, she would naturally fly to the one 
place of refuge which she knew — the old chateau 
where she had spent her so happy childhood. 

“I knew the place to be still occupied by the old ser- 
vant and his wife — this scrap of information my father 
had thrown to me — but, alas ! I knew not the location, 
and there were so many chateaux of the kind in the 
province ! How could I hope to find it ? 

“I sprang to my feet, while a new determination and 
resolve took possession of me, and I uttered a solemn 


142 Lucile Triumphant 

oath, swearing that I would leave the house that night, 
not returning till I should bring Jeanette with me — 
my wife!’^ 

Little chills of excitement chased themselves all over 
the girls in a highly disconcerting manner, and even 
scoffing Phil leaned forward in his chair to miss not 
one word of this remarkable story. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A VAIN QUEST 

“So I packed what few belongings I had and took 
the money which I had managed to save from my 
father’s so meager allowance,” the low voice con- 
tinued; “and when night came and all was still in the 
house, I stole quietly away and turned my back upon 
what was the only refuge I had ever known. 

“I will not dwell upon the days and weeks that fol- 
lowed. Suffice it to say that they were very, very hard, 
and I was dangerously near giving up all hope, when, 
one day, I chanced to come across an old, old man, 
full three score ten he must have been, perhaps more, 
who seemed to know something of the people I sought. 
When I had described them to the best of my ability, 
he nodded sagely and directed me up a side road near 
by. Three miles of steady travel would bring Mon- 
sieur to the chateau where lived the old caretaker and 
his wife. Aye, he remembered the old gentleman, who 
was now dead, and the little, fairy-like creature, his 

ward, whom all had loved. 

143 


144 Lucile Triumphant 

“I thanked him with great warmth, for he had 
brought a little spark of hope to a heart that before 
had lain heavy as lead. 

“Wearily I trudged along till I was rewarded by the 
vision of a small chateau, almost surrounded by dense 
woodland. My unruly heart throbbed violently at the 
thought that in these very woods my sweet Jeanette 
had played when a child and earned the name through- 
out the countryside of the fairy child, whom every one 
loved. My heart yearned toward the little home which 
I was convinced must shelter my love, and, weary as 
I was, in my impatience I began to run, covering the 
remaining distance with feet as light as air and a heart 
that sang with dawning hope and joy. 

“As I neared the door of my heart’s desire, it opened 
and out stepped a plump, middle-aged little person, 
looking very trim and neat in her spotless white attire. 

“To her I appealed. ‘Madame,’ said I, ‘will you be 
so kind as to allow me the privilege of a few words of 
conversation? You have it in your power either to 
raise me to the heights of joy or to sink me in the 
very depths of despair.’ 

“She gazed upon me as she would upon a madman, 
and perhaps, after all, it was not so strange that she 


A Vain Quest 


145 


should do so, I being footsore and weary and all cov- 
ered with the stains and dust of travel — or perhaps it 
was merely my so strange form of address which 
startled her. However, she retreated several steps to- 
ward the house and stood with her hand clasping the 
latch, as though making ready to fly should I attempt 
any violence. 

‘May I ask, sir,’ she said, with great primness, 
not unmixed with fear, ‘who comes so early in the 
morning with so strange, so unusual, requests ?’ 

“ ‘Aye, Madame,’ said I, with my most reassuring 
manner, ‘if you will but allow me, I will soon make all 
clear. Give me but a hearing,’ I cried, frantically, as 
I saw she was about to retire. 

“To my great surprise, when she spoke it was in so 
much different and more gentle a tone that I could 
have gone on my knees to her, so great was my grati- 
tude for a little kindness ! 

“ ‘Oh, Monsieur, I believe you are honest,’ she said, 
gently. ‘I will listen to what you have to say.’ 

“ ‘Ah, Madame, you are good !’ I cried from my 
heart. ‘I am sure your good opinion will be strength- 
ened when you hear all.’ 

“Then did I pour out my story, while the good soul 


146 


Lucile Triumphant 


listened attentively, nodding now and then or uttering 
little exclamations of surprise or sympathy. ‘And, oh, 
Madame,’ I finished, ‘if you have seen her; if, as I be- 
lieve, she is here, I beg of you, take me to her. Let 
me but see her, speak to her, and all, I am convinced, 
will be well.’ 

“Then, what was my great horror, my boundless de- 
spair, when the good woman slowly and sadly shook 
her head, saying, in a voice full of sympathy and com- 
miseration, ‘How loath I am to shatter your hopes and 
add more trouble to your already much overheavy sor- 
rows, you cannot know. Monsieur, but I fear I can 
give you little encouragement.’ 

“ ‘Ah, Madame,’ I cried, wildly, beseechingly, 
‘surely, you cannot be so cruel; surely, you must give 
me some hope! If Jeanette is not here now, surely, 
you have heard from her, seen her, can give me some 
clue to her present whereabouts I’ 

“It seemed to me as though she hesitated for the 
fraction of a second, but when her answer came, 
though gentle and sympathetic as before, it contained 
decision and finality which I could not but respect. 

“ ‘Monsieur, she is not here, and neither have I 
her.’ 


A Vain Quest 


147 


“ ‘Merci, Madame,’ I murmured, wearily, and was 
turning away with sinking heart and feet that 
seemed weighted with lead, when she called to me 
softly : 

‘‘ ‘Monsieur is weary. Will he not rest and partake 
of some refreshment before continuing his journey?’ 

“Apathetically, scarce knowing where I went, nor 
caring, I followed her into a great, homelike, airy 
room, with flowers all about, even in the broad-silled, 
open windows. In the fragrance of the flowers it 
seemed that I could see Jeanette, and I had a strange 
impression she was near me. But I pushed it aside, 
thinking it but one of the many fancies that had beset 
me unceasingly of late. 

“It was not long before the good dame set before 
me a steaming dish, and I, who, a few minutes before, 
had thought I could never eat again, fell upon it 
ravenously and never stopped until the last delicious 
morsel had disappeared. Thus refreshed and strength- 
ened, my courage returned as by magic and I began 
again to make my plans for the future. 

“An hour later, leaving the house upon which I had 
based such high hopes, I again turned my steps to- 
ward the city. Of course, I was now — what you call 


148 Lucile Triumphant 

it? — more in the dark than ever about Jeanette, but in 
my heart was a great and dogged determination to find 
her somehow, somewhere, if I had to search the city 
through. 

“Five days later I found myself again before the 
city, infinitely more dusty, infinitely more hungry, in- 
finitely more footsore and more weary than when I had 
encountered Madame Vidaud at the chateau. 

“As I turned a corner, a great, whirling streak 
rushed by me, so close as to make me jump quickly to 
the side of the road. To my great surprise, the auto- 
mobile stopped a few yards from where I was standing 
and two men, one tall, one short, jumped out and hur- 
ried toward me. 

“ ‘Hello !’ cried the tall one, in a big, rumbling voice. 
‘Aren’t you the son of Charloix?’ he said. ‘I thought 
I recognized you, even through the dust. Just the man 
I’m looking for!’ 

“ ‘I would be pleased, sir, if you would name your 
business with me,’ I replied, not being in the best of 
humors to bandy words with this stranger who seemed 
so familiar with my name and ancestry. 

“ ‘Certainly, certainly,’ said the big man, with a 
heartiness that made me ashamed of my bad humor. 


A Vain Quest 149 

That’s exactly what I stopped for. I am your father’s 
solicitor.’ 

'‘I started and drew back. ‘You come from my 
father ?’ 

“ ‘Yes ; and you must prepare yourself for a great 
shock, my son,’ said he, laying a great hand upon my 
shoulder. ‘Your father is very ill.’ 

“ ‘Dead !’ I gasped, feeling myself turn white. 
‘When?’ 

“ ‘Four days ago,’ said the little man, who had not 
yet spoken. ‘Apoplexy.’ 

“ ‘Ah, I had forgotten ! My friend M. Abbott, M. 
Charloix.’ 

“I bowed, scarcely acknowledging the introduction, 
for my mind was a whirling turmoil of hopes *and 
fears. ‘You say,’ I began, still much dazed, ‘that my 
father died four days ago. And have you been look- 
ing for me since then. Monsieur ?’ 

“ ‘Yes, Monsieur, we have scoured the country and, 
before this fortunate meeting to-day, had almost given 
up hope of finding you.’ 

“ ‘But why did you take this so much trouble to 
find me, Monsieur?’ I had asked. ‘I had not thought 
myself of such importance.’ 


150 


Lucile Triumphant 


'There were many good reasons for our search, 
Monsieur,’ said my big friend, a trifle stiffly, for I 
doubt not he was amazed at my lack of emotion, not 
knowing my father as I had known him. Tn the first 
place, we thought you might possibly wish to know of 
your father’s death. Also, there are several important 
matters relative to his decease that we thought might 
interest you.’ 

" 'Pardon, Monsieur,’ said I. 'I had not meant to 
be abrupt. As you may see, I have had a long and 
wearisome journey and am — what you call — fagged. 
I must rest, Monsieur ; then I can talk.’ 

" 'Quite right, quite right !’ he agreed, in his 
hearty manner. 'If I had had any brains instead 
of being a great empty-headed fool of an attor- 
ney, I should have seen to that before,’ and, link- 
ing his arm in mine, he led me in spite of all protests 
on my part, to his great touring car and bade me 
enter. 

" 'But, Monsieur,’ I protested, gazing despairingly 
down upon my torn and dusty clothing, 'I am not 
fit ’ 

" 'But me no buts, young man. As your attorney 
and rightful executor of your estate, I have the right 


A Vain Quest 151 

to demand an interview, and I am going to take ad- 
vantage of that right.’ 

“There being nothing more to say, and it seeming 
only natural and right to obey the commands of this 
great, blustering attorney, I submitted, and lounged 
back against the soft, upholstered seat with a great 
sigh of relaxation. 

“My father’s attorney talked incessantly until we 
reached our destination, giving me no time to think. 
At hi^ home he directed me to a large room, saying 
that in an hour’s time he would meet me in his study, 
where, over a good dinner and a bottle or two of 
choice Madeira, we could talk in comfort. 

“Ah, the luxury of that bath and the subsequent 
putting on of a clean, whole suit of clothes placed 
upon the bed by the so obsequious man servant, who 
said his master had sent these clothes with his com- 
pliments and the hope that they would fit. The clothes 
I accepted thankfully enough, for I had decided to ask 
M. Cartier the address of a shop in the city in which 
I might purchase for myself a cheap but respectable 
suit, for I had still a little money left. 

“In Monsieur Cartier’s study again that night I 
learned many things. I learned, among other things. 


152 Lucile Triumphant 

that my father had long been suspected of being some- 
what of a miser — that he was thought to possess a 
great deal more money than he cared to let people 
know about.. Also, I learned that, several days before 
his death, he had made a flying visit to a little chateau 
which had been owned by a friend of his — I must 
have started, for the lawyer asked if I had heard 
of the place. ‘Yes, I had heard of it — but please 
go on.’ 

“ ‘Well, he stayed over night that night,’ the lawyer 
continued, ‘saying that he had come in search of his 
ward, who had run away from home.’ 

“ ‘Yes, yes,’ I cried; ‘go on! What then?’ 

“ ‘Well, it seems that in the night the good dame 
heard a noise, and, rising to investigate, came upon 
your father in the attic, bending over something, the 
nature of which she could not make out.’ 

“ ‘But, Monsieur, you mean to say my father ’ 

I began, but he interrupted me with an admonitory 
wave of the hand. 

“ ‘If you will but wait till I have finished, Monsieur 
Charloix,’ he said, ‘I will be glad to answer any and 
all of your questions. As I have said, your father 
was bending over some object and was so absorbed 


A Vain Quest 153 

that he did not hear our good friend till she ventured 
a gentle cough by way of introduction. At the slight 
sound, your father sprang forward with an oath, level- 
ing the pistol at the good dame’s head ’ ” 

“Oh!” breathed Jessie, and Lucile’s hand went out 
instinctively to silence the interruption. “Sh-h!” she 
warned, but the Frenchman seemed not to have heard 
and continued his narrative, while his hand beat a 
nervous tattoo on the arm of the chair. 

“I sat fascinated, my eyes fixed strainingly on the 
face of the lawyer, while he continued to speak, calmly, 
nonchalantly, as though that of which he spoke were 
of every-day occurrence. ‘Of course, the good dame 
screamed, but the next instant her fear turned to ter- 
ror when the weapon fell from your father’s hand and 
he reeled, falling upon the ground with a strangling, 
choking cry, and lay motionless. She thought him 
dead, but ran for assistance nevertheless. It was some 
hours before the doctor arrived, and not long after- 
ward your father passed away, quietly and painlessly, 
for he had lain in a coma since the stroke.’ 

“ ‘But, Monsieur,’ I cried, forgetful of his admoni- 
tion, ‘you say this was a week ago ?’ He nodded con- 
sent. ‘But I myself but left the chateau three days 


154 


Lucile Triumphant 


ago, and Madame Vidaud made no mention of the 
tragedy to me, who am most concerned/ 

“Then it was Cartier’s turn to have surprise. 'You 
mean,’ said he, leaning his arm on the table and eyeing 
me steadily. 'You mean that you were actually at the 
chateau three days ago and that the Vidaud woman 
said nothing to you of your father’s death ? Are you 
sure that it was the right chateau?’ 

'' 'Oui, Monsieur, I am sure,’ said I. 

''Then ensued a silence, during which the lawyer 
seemed to ponder, and I, impatient though I was, must 
needs respect his silence and await his pleasure. 

'' 'Aye, it is strange — very strange,’ said he at last, 
with a thoughtful frown. 'However, it is only one 
more snarl in the tangled thread of circumstances, and, 
with good luck, we ought to be able to get at the root 
of all this mystery soon. But, my young friend,’ said 
he, bringing his gaze back from the wall and long 
line of books and centering it once more upon me, 
'there is one more very important matter which re- 
quires our careful consideration.’ 

“ 'And that ?’ I cried. 

“ 'That,’ he continued, 'is the matter of the will,’ and 
then, seeing that I was about to interrupt, he con- 


A Vain Quest 


155 


tinned, quickly, 'Jtist a moment, if you please, and 
you will know everything ; then I will be in a position 
to discuss whys and wherefores. Your father’s last 
will, the will which I myself drew up about a year ago, 
is strangely missing. One has been found, however, 
dating back two years, and in the event of the first 
will not being found, will, of course, become valid.’ 

‘‘ Well?’ said I. 

“ Well,’ he continued, calmly launching his thun- 
derbolt, ‘in that case, you. Monsieur, will be left 
penniless.’ 

“ ‘Ah !’ I cried, aghast, and the lawyer nodded, ‘I 
trust that you now see the seriousness of the situa- 
tion, Monsieur.’ 

“ ‘Ah, but there is one point of far greater im- 
portance than any you have mentioned,’ I cried, with 
such earnestness that he leaned back in his chair with 
a sigh of resignation, saying, ‘Great heavens! What 
could be more important than that?’ 

“ ‘Many things. Monsieur, which, when you have 
heard of them, will cause you to agree with me.’ 

“My manner may have impressed him ; perhaps my 
earnestness ; for he bade me speak out freely, leaving 
nothing untold. This I did, to the most minute de- 


156 


Lucile Triumphant 


tails, save, of course, those things sacred only to Jeanne 
and me. When I had finished, we had a long talk, 
during which I came to know the value of this new ally 
of mine. 

“So it was finally decided that I was to travel to 
America for the purpose of hunting up one of the 
chief witnesses of my father’s will and beg him to re- 
turn to France with me. Meanwhile, my father’s at- 
torney assured me he would not be idle.” 

“And did you find him — the witness, I mean ?” said 
Mr. Payton. 

“No, Monsieur, I did not; but, after a long and ex- 
haustive search, I learned that the one I sought had 
sailed a week ago on the steamer “Baltic,” so all my 
journey has been for nothing.” 

“What difference does it make? At least, you ac- 
complished your purpose.” 

“That is true, Madame, but he would have sailed 
without aid of mine, and it maddens me to think that 
all this time I have been wasting in a fruitless search 
my Jeanette is still unfound. Where may she not be? 

Dead — perhaps ” His voice trailed off into silence 

and they sat motionless, fascinated by the spell of ro- 
mance, tragedy and mystery he had woven. 


CHAPTER XV 


‘‘land, ho!’' 

Lucile opened her eyes slowly, lazily, and let them 
rove aimlessly about the bright cabin; then, chancing 
to come upon Jessie and Evelyn sleeping sweetly and 
peacefully, they stopped and focused resentfully. 

“Nothing to do but sleep,” she murmured, pushing 
back her rumpled curls and yawning prodigiously. “I 
wonder why it is I always have to wake up first,” and 
then, her eyes happening to fall on Evelyn at this pre- 
cise moment, she cried, “Oh, I saw you wink, Evelyn ; 
you can’t fool me! You’Ve playing possum,” and, 
springing quickly out of bed, she gave that young lady 
a vigorous shake, which caused her to open her eyes 
rather suddenly. 

“Wh- what’s the matter? Can’t you let a fellow 

sleep?” she began, but the laughter in her ey^s belied 

the sleepy tone, and Lucile hugged her and pulled her 

out of bed. “I’ll admit you’re a dabster, Evelyn, 

dear,” she cried, “but you will have to get up early in 

the morning to get the best of your little friend.” 

157 


158 


Lucile Triumphant 


Evelyn laughed merrily. “You whirlwind!” she 
cried. “Nobody has a chance to sleep when you’re 
around.” 

“Don’t be too sure of that; look at Jessie. She is 
still sleeping the sleep of the just.” 

“All right; let’s make her get up, then. Even if 
she does want to sleep, why should we worry?” 

“Evelyn,” cried Lucy, shocked, “you’re getting most 
horribly slangy.” 

“Oh, Lucy, you do look so funny, trying to be se- 
vere in that rig! It can’t be done!” And, with a 
laugh, she plumped down on something hard and 
lumpy, which proved to be Jessie’s feet. The out- 
raged owner objected promptly and emphatically. 

“Oh, Jessie, I’m so sorry! Are those your feet?” 
cried Evelyn, in concern. 

“No; they are Lucy’s,” said Jessie, coldly, rubbing 
the injured members gingerly. 

Lucile laughed merrily. “Don’t you go slandering 
my poor old feet,” she cried. “Anyway, it serves you 
right for being so lazy, Jess.” 

“Oh, does it? Well, I’ll just prove you wrong by 
beating you all on deck. One, two, three — we’re off !” 

Then ensued a great amount of talk and laughter 


“Land, Hoi’’ 


159 


and wild scrambling for clothing that would get 
out of sight, until at the end of half an hour, our 
girls made a dash for the door at precisely the same 
instant. 

“Oh, that’s not fair,” cried Evelyn, as Lucile 
wrenched open the door and ran straight into the arms 
of the rather stout, middle-aged matron who happened 
to be passing. 

“Oh,” she gasped, “I — I beg your pardon ! I ” 

“Look first, and you will save your apologies,” said 
the sweet-tempered lady, who, to do her justice, was 
considerably shaken by the impact. 

Lucile flushed scarlet, but walked on with her head 
in the air, thankful she had not expressed the thought 
that had rushed to her lips. 

“Cranky old curmudgeon !” murmured Evelyn, vin- 
dictively. “It’s lucky there aren’t so many of them in 
the world.” 

To their surprise, Lucile began to laugh with great 
enjoyment. “Girls,” she said, “did you hear her say 
‘woof’ when we clashed ?” 

Two hours later they sighted the harbor, and on 
board pandemonium broke loose. Questions and an- 
swers were fired back and forth like bullets from a 


160 Lucile Triumphant 

Gatling gun, and everywhere field glasses were glued 
to eager eyes. 

“So that’s England?” said Lucile. “Oh, Jessie, 
pinch me !” 

“Won’t. Love you too much,” said Jessie, gazing 
intently toward the harbor, which became more and 
more distinct with every passing moment. 

“Don’t let any such soft scruples stand in your way,” 
said Phil, administering the desired pinch with such 
good effect that Lucile jumped almost a foot and low- 
ered her glasses to gaze reproachfully at him. 

“Phil, that will be black and blue for a month,” she 
said, with conviction. “You needn’t have done it so 
hard.” 

“You didn’t say not to,” said Phil, with the air of 
injured innocence that sat so comically upon him. 
“Here comes old Charlie,” he added, a minute later. 
“Wonder if he’s found anything since last night.” 

“Who in the world is old Charlie?” inquired Jessie, 
mystified. 

“Old Charlie? Why, old Charlie is short for Mon- 
sieur Charloix, of course,” elucidated Phil, with the 
patronizing air of one speaking to a peculiarly stupid 
child. 


161 


“Land, Ho!” 

Instantly the girls’ interest in Liverpool harbor 
waned, as they turned smilingly to greet the historian 
of last night. 

“I see Mademoiselle is entirely recovered from the 
seasickness,” said he, turning to Lucile. “It is good to 
see you looking so well.” 

“Thank you, Monsieur. I suppose you will be glad 
to get back to France?” 

“Oh, very glad, for, though I admire your America, 
it is not to me like my own country,” said he, smiling. 

It was not long before they were joined by other 
excited fellow-passengers, all talking at once about 
what they intended to do upon reaching land, and in 
the babble it was impossible to carry on any but a dis- 
jointed conversation, so the girls wisely gave up 
trying. 

Nevertheless, Lucile had been more deeply im- 
pressed than any of the rest by the recital of Mon- 
sieur’s tragic romance. It seemed, somehow, like the 
plays their guardian had described to them. Phil, the 
skeptical, had seemed inclined to think the story over- 
drawn, but the girls had emphatically disagreed with 
him, overwhelming him by sheer force of numbers. 
And way down in Lucile’s heart was the hope that she 


162 Lucile Triumphant 

would, sooner or later, hear the finishing chapter of 
the romance. Whether this premonition was inspired 
partly by her own desire or partly by the fact that, 
sooner or later, they would be in France itself, where 
they would have the opportunity of following the for- 
tunes of the disconsolate Frenchman, cannot be deter- 
mined, but certain it was, the premonition was there. 
As she had said to Jessie at the end of a long and ex- 
cited discussion the night before, “Stranger things 
have happened.” 

And so, in the girls' eyes, and, in fact, in the eyes of 
all who had heard his story, even Phil, the stranger 
had taken on an added importance, the importance of 
the chief actor in a romantic drama. 

“I would like to help,” Lucile murmured, as the 
Frenchman excused himself and moved off down the 
deck. “I never saw any one look so wistful in all my 
life.” 

“No wonder,” said Jessie, in the same tone. “If I 
had been through all he has, Fd never have lived to 
tell about it.” 

“And poor Jeanette!” Lucile mused on. “Fd give 
almost anything if I could bring them together 
again.” 


“Land, Ho!’’ 


163 


Jessie glanced at her friend curiously. “Perhaps 
you will tell me now that my dear old novels always 
exaggerate,” she challenged. 

“A little more of this sort of thing and Pll be able 
to believe anything,” Lucile answered, with a rueful 
smile. “It surely is wonderful I” 

“Oh, Lucy, dear, I may convert you yet,” Jessie was 
crying gleefully, when she was interrupted by another 
crowd of fellow-voyagers, who, for the time being at 
least, cut her triumph short. 

Later came the call to luncheon, and everybody hur- 
ried down to the dining-room, where the atmosphere 
of excitement and unrest prevailed to such a degree 
that people almost forgot to eat, or else bolted their 
meals in half the ordinary time, anxious not to miss a 
moment above decks. 

Then, toward one o’clock in the afternoon, Mrs. 
Payton advised the girls to get everything ready, and 
see that nothing was left in the stateroom. 

“We will dock in a few minutes,” she explained, 
“and we don’t want to leave everything until the last 
instant.” 

Down rushed the girls to the stateroom obediently, 
treading on each other’s heels and not even bothering 


164 Lucile Triumphant 

to apologize, for what was so everyday a thing as po- 
liteness at such a time ? 

Jessie and Evelyn waited in undisguised impatience 
while Lucile fumblingly fitted the key into the lock 
with fingers that trembled rebelliously. 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, let me have it!” said Jes- 
sie, in desperation. 

“Hold on a minute! There it is!” And as the 
door swung open, they tumbled rather than walked 
into the room. 

“Oh, bother! Where did I put my comb?” moaned 
Evelyn, searching wildly under the dresser for the 
missing article. “You might know it would disappear 
just when I haven’t any time to look for it. Are you 
sure you’re not sitting on it, Lucy?” 

“Of course not,” denied Lucile; “but if you don’t 
get off my suitcase this minute, Jessie Sanderson, I’ll 
know the reason why.” 

“Here’s your comb, Evelyn! Catch!” said Jessie, 
throwing the missing article toward her friend. “If 
you would only keep it over on your side instead ” 

“Oh, if you talk so much you will never be ready, 
Jessie! Do hurry!” And so on in this fashion until, 
finally, the last thing was ready and they tumbled up 


“Land, Ho!” 


165 


on deck again, only to be swallowed up by a jostling, 
gesticulating throng intent, apparently, on getting no- 
where in particular, and doing it, withal, with a per- 
severance that was truly admirable. 

“Hello!” said Phil, elbowing his way through the 
crowd. “We dock in ten minutes. Just look at the 
harbor now” ; and he was off again. 

With difficulty they made their way to the rail and 
stood gazing at the scene with wondering eyes and 
parted lips. Craft of all sizes and descriptions 
plowed and snorted through the ruffled water, and 
everywhere was life and bustle and activity. And 
further back, past the lines of docks and warehouses, 
the girls could discern the spires and steeples of — 
England I 

“Well,” came Mr. Payton’s gruff, hearty voice from 
just behind them, “how do you like your first glimpse 
of the Old World, eh? It won’t be any time at all 
before you set foot upon it.” 

“Oh, Daddy, isn’t it magnificent?” said Lucile, 
drawing a long breath. “It all looks just exactly the 
way I dreamed it would, though. Oh, I can’t wait!” 
and she leaned far out over the rail, as if by that means 
to bring it so much the nearer. 


166 Lucile Triumphant 

Her father’s strong hand drew her back to safety, 
and he said, reprovingly, “Don’t do that again, Luc}". 
Accidents will happen, you know.” 

“Even in the best- regulated families,” finished Lu- 
cile, gaily. 

Her father laughed, and pinched the tip of one pink 
ear fondly. “I suppose there is no use trying to make 
any of you serious at such a time,” he said, with the 
resigned air of one giving up all hope; “but there is 
one little phrase that it will be well for you to remem- 
ber, and that is, ‘Safety first.’ ” 

And with that fatherly admonition he left them, 
bidding them wait where they were until he could re- 
join them. 

In a few minutes he returned, bringing his wife and 
Phil, declaring that nothing now remained to be done 
but walk off the ship when the time came. 

The great “Mauretania” was very near her destina- 
tion now, and was nosing her way carefully through 
the traffic, convoyed by two snorting and puffing tugs. 
The raucous shouts and cries of sailors and watermen 
came to their ears, with now and then a snatch of song 
from the decks of some tall, four-masted freighter. 
There were shouts of “aye, aye, sir” and “ship, ahoy,” 


“Land, Ho!” 167 

mingled with the rasping of cables and the clatter of 
cargo cranes — and behind all this noise and confusion 
lay the quaint, historic streets of Liverpool, and later, 
London, filled with the glory of ancient times. 

The girls’ eyes were large and dark with wonder 
and excitement as they lowered their glasses and 
looked at each other. 

‘‘Yes, you are awake,” said Mrs. Payton, with a 
laugh, interpreting the look. 

“Jessie looks as though she had just seen a ghost,” 
said Phil. 

A few minutes later the great liner was warped se- 
curely alongside the great landing stage, while the 
whistle shrieked a noisy greeting. Passengers hurried 
from one group to another, shaking hands in a final 
farewell with shipboard acquaintances whom they had 
come to know so well in so short a time. Porters hur- 
ried past, laden with luggage, and groups of eager 
passengers formed about the entrance to the gang- 
ways. 

“I feel as though my hand had been shaken off,” 
said Evelyn, regarding that very necessary appendage 
ruefully. 

“Oh, there’s Mrs. Applegate and Puss,” said Lucile, 


168 Lucile Triumphant 

and darted off through the crowd so suddenly that the 
girls could only follow her with their eyes. 

‘‘Lucile,” cried Mrs. Payton, and then, as her voice 
would not carry above all the noise, “Go after her, 
Phil,” she said. “If she gets separated from us now, 
we will have a hard time finding her.” 

Phil hurried off and was soon lost to sight in the 
swaying crowd. 

“Oh, what did she do that for?” wailed Jessie. “If 
Lucy goes and gets lost now in all this crowd ” 

“Don’t worry; Phil will have her back in a jiffy,’’ 
said Mr. Payton, soothingly, but the frown on his 
forehead betrayed his own anxiety. 

The gangplanks were lowered, and the people had 
already begun to surge forward, and still no sign of 
either Lucile or Phil. 

They eagerly searched the faces of the passers-by, 
nodding to some, yet scarcely seeing them, while Mr. 
Payton began to mutter something about “tying a 
string to that cyclonic young flyaway” when he got 
her back again. 

Five minutes passed. The deck was beginning to 
be emptied of people, and they had begun to make their 
way slowly toward the gangplank, when Phil came 


169 


“Land, Ho!” 

rushing up to them, very red and very much out of 
breath. 

“Well?” they cried together, and Mr. Payton took 
him by the shoulder, demanding, sternly, “Where is 
she?” 

“Wouldn’t it make you sick?” panted Phil, dis- 
gustedly. “Here I rush all over the boat trying to 
locate her, and get everybody scared to death, think- 
ing she’s fallen overboard or something, and then I 
find her down on the float there, talking to the ” 

“What?” interrupted Mr. Pa)rton, incredulously. 

“Yes. Isn’t it the limit?” said Phil, fanning him- 
self with his hat. “Said she couldn’t find her way back 
to you, so thought she’d wait with the Applegates at 
the foot of the gangplank; said she knew you could 
find her there.” 

The girls laughed hysterically, and even Mr. Pay- 
ton’s stern face relaxed ; the action was so truly “Lu- 
cilian.” 

“Well, I suppose all we can do is to follow,” said 
Mr. Payton, and Mrs. Payton added, pathetically, “I 
do wish Lucile would be a trifle less impulsive now 
and then ; it might save us a good deal of trouble.” 

Mr. Payton had felt inclined to read his “cyclonic” 


170 Lucile Triumphant 

young daughter a lecture, but the sight of her bright 
young face completely disarmed him, and he could 
only breathe a prayer of thankfulness that she was 
safe. 

They said good-by to Mr. and Mrs. Applegate and 
their very diminutive daughter — whom somebody had 
fondly nicknamed “Puss” — and turned to follow the 
crowd. A short time later they set foot for the first 
time on the soil of the Old World. 

“Where are we going. Dad, now that we’re here?” 
asked Phil. 

“To London, as fast as we can, by the train that 
connects with our steamer,” said his father. “Stick 
together, everybody — here we are,” and he hustled 
them before him into the long coach — for in England, 
you must remember, trains are not made up of cars, 
but of “coaches.” 

By this time it was getting late, and after vainly 
trying to distinguish objects through streaked and 
misty glass, the girls gave up and leaned back with a 
sigh of tired but absolute content. 

“Well, we’re here, and still going,” said Lucile, 
happily, feeling for her friends’ hands. 

“YVe jolty well know that, my de-ar,” came in sweet, 


“Land, Ho!” 171 

falsetto tones from Phil. ^‘We ought to have no end 
of sport, you know; rippin’, what-what!’^ 

‘‘Bally goose!” murmured Jessie. 

The reproof that rose to Mrs. Payton's lips was 
drowned in a shout of laughter. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE RED-LETTER DAY 

“Hang the luck!” ejaculated Phil, flinging aside 
his book in disgust. “Here it is, our first day over, 
and look at it!” And, drawing aside the light chintz 
curtains, he disclosed a view that was, to say the 
least, very discouraging. 

The rain came down in torrents, rebounding from 
the shining pavement and the no less shining umbrellas 
of passing pedestrians with vicious little pops and 
hisses that sounded more like a storm of tiny daggers 
than of raindrops. As time went on, instead of light- 
ening, the sky had grown murkier and murkier and 
darker and darker, until, in many parts of the hotel, 
people had been forced to turn on the lights. Over 
and about everything hung that moist, indefinably de- 
pressing atmosphere that makes one rail at fate and 
long for the blessing of the sun and a clear day. 

Such was Phil’s enviable state of mind as he dropped 
the curtain and slumped back into his chair with an 
impatient grunt. 

“ ’Tis rather mean, isn’t it?” drawled Jessie, drop- 
172 


178 


The Red-Letter Day 

ping her book and looking at the disconsolate Phil 
lazily. “You don’t happen to have any more of those 
candies around you anywhere, do you, Evelyn?” she 
queried. 

“Hardly. How long do you think they last when 
you’re around?” answered Evelyn, without raising her 
eyes from the magazine she was reading. 

With a quick movement, Jessie reached over and 
pulled the candy box toward her before Evelyn could 
interfere. 

“A-ha, I thought so !” she cried. “I was sure they 
couldn’t all have vanished so quickly, you un- 
scrupulous ” 

“Beg pardon!” interrupted Evelyn, blandly. 

“Well, you are, anyway,” Jessie maintained. “What 
do you mean, no more left? Here are half a dozen 
at least.” 

“Well, you know you’ve eaten half a box already, 
Jessie,” Evelyn was beginning, severely, when Jessie 
interrupted. 

“But, Evelyn, what else is there to do on a day like 
this?” she pleaded, plaintively. “We can’t make any 
noise, for fear that we’ll annoy the other people, and 
we can’t go out ” 


174 


Lucile Triumphant 


This was more than Phil could stand. 

“Eat all the candy that you want, Jessie, and when 
you’ve finished what you have, I’ll buy you some 
more,” and he sauntered out, hands in pocket, despite 
all his mother’s training, and whistling mournfully. 

“Seems to me you have him very well tamed, Jes- 
sie,” gibed Evelyn. “Just the same. I’m going to pray 
for clear weather.” 

“Why the sudden fervor?” asked Jessie, munching 
away happily. 

“Because if you take Phil’s advice and eat all the 
chocolates that you want to while it rains, and it 
doesn’t clear up soon^ — well, all I have to say is ” 

Jessie laughed, but added, more seriously, “I guess 
maybe you’re right, after all. There was a time when 
I’d nearly given up the habit, but now I’m just about 
as bad as ever. I’m afraid our guardian might not 
like it.” 

“Of course she wouldn’t,” said Evelyn, seizing upon 
the opportunity eagerly. “Do you know, Jessie, 
there’s been so much going on and so much excite- 
ment that we have — well, rather lost sight of the camp- 
fire idea, don’t you think?” 

“I was thinking just that very thing the other day,” 


The Red-Letter Day 176 

replied Jessie, slowly, putting down a half -finished 
candy. “It ought to mean just as much to us now, 
and more, for that matter, than it ever did be- 
fore 

“Girls, girls, girls!” sang out Lucile, bursting in 
upon them, with cheeks like two red roses, and wav- 
ing something white aloft in the air. “We’ve got some 
letters, some beautiful, thick, booky letters, and you’ll 
never guess whom they’re from.” 

The girls ran to the sofa, where Lucile had flung 
herself with a pile of letters in her lap, and hung over 
the back of it excitedly. 

“Oh, go on, Lucy ; show them to us !” cried Evelyn, 
as Lucile put both her hands teasingly over the letters, 
inviting them to “guess.” 

“If you don’t hand over my property before I count 
five,” threatened Jessie, “I shall be compelled to use 
force.” 

“Well, in that case,” laughed the threatened one, 
“I suppose I’ll have to 

“Oh, Lucy, you know you always were my favorite 
che-ild,” begged Evelyn, melodramatically. “I’ll de- 
stroy the old will and make a new one, leaving every- 
thing 


176 Lucile Triumphant 

“To me,” finished Jessie, at the same time making 
a lunge at the tempting little pile of paper. 

“Oh, go on !” cried Lucile, and, dodging out- 
stretched arms, made a dash for the door, only to be 
captured and brought back by two indignant and pro- 
testing girls to the sofa. 

“Oh, we will be put out of the hotel,” gasped Lu- 
cile, between laughs. “We’re making no end of noise. 
Now, if you two girls will only sit down and behave 
like sensible ” 

“Huh !” broke in Evelyn. “We were only demand- 
ing our just rights.” 

“You would better hasten, Lucile Payton,” said Jes- 
sie, with her best heavy-villain scowl. “My patience 
is dangerously near an end.” 

“All right,” Lucile capitulated, patting the sofa on 
either side of her invitingly. “Sit down here and I’ll 
hand them out just as they come.’' 

“And we’ll read each one aloud before we open the 
next one,” Jessie suggested, eagerly. 

“That’s right,” assented Evelyn. “Whom is the 
first one from, Lucy?” 

“The first one,” drawled Lucile, turning it up with 
aggravating deliberation, “is for Evelyn, from " 


The Red-Letter Day 177 

“Miss — er — our guardian,” cried Evelyn, snatching 
the envelope unceremoniously. “Oh, oh, oh! Got a 
letter opener, Lucy? Oh, all right; anything. Hair- 
pin? Thanks! Oh, girls, what has she got to say?” 

“I might suggest that the best way to find out is to 
read it,” said Jessie, and immediately became the re- 
cipient of a withering stare from Evelyn, who was 
opening the letter with trembling, clumsy fingers. 

“My dear little girl,” she read, and then stopped 
and looked from one to the other pleadingly. “I can’t 
do it ; I can’t read it out loud ” 

“Don’t try,” said Lucile, putting an arm around her. 
“I know exactly how you feel. We would better read 
them first and compare notes afterward.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Jessie. “I didn’t think how 
hard it would be to read them out loud when I sug- 
gested it. Better give them all out together, Lucy.” 

“Well, here’s one to you from your mother, I guess, 
Jessie, and another from your father, and one for 
you from your mother, Evelyn, and one for me ” 

“From whom?” interrupted Jessie. 

“Our guardian,” answered Lucile, touching it lov- 
ingly. “And here is yours, Jessie,” she added, hand- 
ing her a letter in the well-known and well-loved hand- 


178 Lucile Triumphant 

writing. “Isn’t she dear to remember each one of us 
like that? And oh, here are whole stacks of letters 

from the girls — one from Margaret — here, Jess ” 

And so on and on until each had a little pile of her 
own. 

“And whom is that from, Lucy?” asked Evelyn, as 
Lucile picked up the last letter, looked at the unfa- 
miliar handwriting curiously, then looked again more 
closely, while the tips of her ears became very pink. 

“I — I don’t know,” she stammered. “It’s for me, 
and — oh, well. I’ll open it later on,” and she tucked 
it among the others, just to gain time, as she explained 
it to herself. 

“No, you don’t! No, you don’t!” cried Evelyn. 
“We have stumbled upon a deep, dark mystery and it 
must be cleared up at once, at once. Come on, Lucy ; 
who wrote that letter?” 

“I tell you I don’t know myself, so how can I tell 
you?” cried Lucile, angry at herself for being so con- 
fused. 

“If you don’t know whom it’s from, why do you get 
all red and snappy and try to hide it?” asked Evelyn, 
triumphantly. “ ’Fess up, Lucy. You might as well, 
first as last, for you can’t fool us.” 


179 


The Red-Letter Day 

“Methinks,” began Jessie, in deep, stentorian tones, 
'‘that this writing seems strangely familiar. Where 
can I have seen it before? Ah, I have it!” Then, 
suddenly throwing her arms about Lucile in a strang- 
ling hug, she cried, “Oh, I knew it, I knew it! I knew 
he would just go crazy about you, like all the rest of 
us. He couldn’t help himself ! And you never, never 
would believe anything could happen the way it does 
in novels — oh — oh ” 

“Oh, I see it all ! I see it all !” shouted Evelyn, sud- 
denly springing up and whirling about the room, using 
her letters as a tambourine. “It’s Jessie’s cousin! 
He’s gone — he’s gone ” 

“Girls, you are crazy, both of you!” cried Lucile, 
extricating herself with difficulty from Jessie’s strangle 
hold and smoothing back the hair that was tumbling 
down in the most becoming disorder — or so her two 
friends would have told you — while her laughing eyes 
tried hard to look severe. “Probably it isn’t from him 
at all, and if it is, why — why — well, it is,” she ended, 
desperately. 

“Why, of course it is,” soothed Jessie; “but I don’t 


think you need worry about it not being from 
him ” 


180 Lucile Triumphant 

‘'Aren’t you going to read it over now?” broke in 
Evelyn. “Then you can tell us ” 

“I wouldn’t tell you a thing,” said Lucile, driven 
to her last entrenchment; “and what’s more. I’m not 
going to read it till I get good and ready, and not 
then if I don’t want to,” and she slipped her letter 
into her pocketbook, which she closed with a defiant 
little snap. “Now, what are you going to do about 
it?” she challenged, gaily. 

“We might use force,” mused Jessie, meditatively. 

“But you’re not going to, because you can’t,” Lu- 
cile declared, raising a round little arm, not yet wholly 
free from last summer’s tan, for inspection. “Just 
look at that muscle,” she invited. 

“Terrific!” cried Evelyn, in mock terror. “Guess 
we’d better think twice before we tackle that, Jessie.” 

“Mere nothing!” sniffed Jessie, scornfully. “Now, 
if you want to see real muscle ” 

“Oh, yes ; we know all about that,” said Lucile, and, 
throwing an arm about each of the girls, she dragged 
them over to the settee, saying, gaily, “What’s the use 
of having all this fuss about one old letter, when we 
have all the really good ones to read?” 

The girls exchanged significant glances, but^ never- 


The Red Letter Day 181 

theless, followed Lucile’s example, opening one letter 
after another amid a shower of exclamations, com- 
ments, questions and quotations from this or that let- 
ter, till the other disturbing document was all but for- 
gotten — except by Lucile. 

After half an hour of delightful reveling in the news 
from Burleigh, which seemed so terribly far away, 
and in tender little messages from mothers and fathers 
and friends, Lucile looked up from her guardian’s let- 
ter, which she had just read for the third time. 

“Girls,” she said, seriously, “I’m glad the letters 
came just as they did this morning. I’ve been think- 
ing ” 

“So were we,” broke in Evelyn, “just before you 
came in ” 

“Wonderful!” murmured Jessie. “A red-letter 
day !” 

The girls laughed, but Lucile went on : 

“Just because we’re over here, so far away from 
home, is no reason for our forgetting or neglecting the 
least little bit the rules of our camp-fire. In fact, I 
don’t think we deserve any credit for being good where 
Mrs. Wescott is ; you simply can’t help yourself when 
our guardian is around.” 


182 


Lucile Triumphant 


‘That’s true enough,” agreed Jessie, and for a few 
minutes they sat silent, while the dreary, sodden, 
steaming streets of London, as, in their short experi- 
ence, they had already begun to think of them, 
faded before the magic power of memory and they 
were once more back in camp — eating, swimming, 
walking, canoeing — subject always to the slightly word 
or wish of their lovely, smiling, cheery guardian, 
who always knew just what to do and just the time to 
do it. 

“That’s all right for me,” began Jessie, heroically. 
“I’ve been eating candies and drinking sodas and 
reading so much that my eyes are nearly out of my 
head, but I don’t know what under the light of the sun 
you two have done.” 

“Well, in the first place. I’ve become horribly rude,” 
confessed Lucile. 

“We haven’t noticed it,” said Jessie. 

“Well, I have,” she went on. “This morning an 
old lady dropped her handkerchief under my very eyes 
and I was in such a hurry to get to you that I didn’t 
stop to pick it up. And all my clothes need mending. 
That good waist is all ripped where you yanked the 
button off, Evelyn ” 


183 


The Red Letter Day 

“Oh, I did not,” began Evelyn, hotly. 

“All right. I don’t care who did it; the fact re- 
mains that it is torn and I haven’t mended it, and I 
haven’t written half as much as I ought to, and — well, 
if I told you everything, I wouldn’t get through 
to-day.” 

“And I use slang from morning to night, and I 
chewed a piece of gum that Phil gave me right out 
in the street, too,” began Evelyn, miserably. 

“Oh, Phil!” said Jessie, disdainfully. “He would 
ruin anybody’s manners.” 

“All the more credit, then, in being good while he’s 
around,” laughed Lucile. “But, seriously, girls, don’t 
you think it would be a good plan to make up our 
minds to act just the same all the time as though our 
guardian were in the next room?” 

“Let’s,” said the girls. And so, with no more form 
or ceremony, the simple little compact was made, but 
it had taken firm and solid root, nevertheless, in the 
girls’ hearts. 

“Hooray, people; here comes the sun!” cried Phil, 
bursting in upon them with a box of candy and a 
radiant smile. “I just waylaid Dad and asked him 
what was up if it cleared this afternoon, and he said. 


184 


Lucile Triumphant 


‘Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, a look at the 
Thames, an auto ride/ Hooray!” 

The girls ran to the window, and, sure enough, the 
sun was beginning to shine, feebly and mistily, to be 
sure, but yet unmistakably. 

They hugged each other joyfully and began to 
gather up their scattered belongings. 

“It must be nearly lunch time,” sang Lucile. “We’ll 
go up and see what we look like and change our 
dresses and ” 

“Then for the fun,” finished Evelyn. 

“I say, Jessie, here’s the candy I promised you,” 
Phil called after her. 

Jessie turned at the door and eyed the tempting 
box longingly. 

“I’d love to, Phil,” she said, “but I can’t. Thanks 
just as much. I would spoil my lunch,” she added, 
lamely, making a hasty retreat. 

“Well, of all the ” began Phil, at a loss to un- 

derstand such insanity. Then, with a shrug of the 
shoulders, he voiced the eternal and oft-repeated mas- 
culine query: 

“Aren’t girls the limit?” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE GLORY OF THE PAST 

With light hearts and lighter feet the girls danced 
from the dark hotel to the sun-flooded street. Um- 
brellas had been down for half an hour and in some 
places the sidewalks were already partly dry. Smiles 
and friendly nods had once more become the fashion 
where before had been only grumbling discontent, 
with now and then a muttered, “Beastly rotten day, 
what ?” 

“Oh, what a dif-fer-ence cried Lucile, surveying 
the scene with delight. “I’d begun to be rather dis- 
gusted with London this morning, everything looked 
so dreary and forlorn. I wonder what can be keep- 
ing Dad and Mother,” she added, turning to the hotel 
entrance, while her foot tapped impatiently. “They 
said they’d be with us right away — oh, here they are ! 
Speaking of angels ” 

“And they’re sure to turn up,” said Phil, producing 

himself with startling suddenness from nowhere. 

“Bet you can’t guess where I’ve been.” 

i8s 


186 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Why work when you don’t have to?” philosophized 
Jessie. “If we don’t care where you’ve been, why 
bother to guess?” 

“All right; I won’t let you in on the secret now, 
but when you do find out about it, you’ll wish you had 
been more civil,” Phil prophesied, darkly. 

“Here is the car; come down, all of you,” com- 
manded Mr. Payton ; and, all else forgotten, they very 
willingly obeyed. 

The machine was a big touring car, hired especially 
for the occasion, and the girls thrilled at the thought 
of seeing London in this fashion. In they tumbled 
joyfully, the big tonneau just accommodating five, 
while Mr. Payton took his place beside the driver. 

“Where to, sir?” asked the latter. 

“Oh, all around,” said Mr. Payton, with a wave of 
his hand. “You know the points of interest better 
than I do. Only, of course, the young folks must 
stop for a long look at Westminster Abbey on the way 
back.” 

“All right, sir,” said the man, with an understand- 
ing grin, and added, “For the whole afternoon?” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Payton. 

With that the chauffeur threw in the clutch and the 


The Glory of the Past 187 

big machine whizzed away through the crowded traffic 
bearing a very happy cargo. 

The girls never forgot that afternoon. Impressions 
crowded so thick and fast upon them they had all they 
could do to gather them in, and Lucile more than 
once exclaimed, “Oh, I must come here some day 
when I have lots of time and just stand and look and 
look and look!” 

The last time she had made this remark was when 
they were proceeding slowly through the crowded 
traffic of London Bridge. 

“Do you remember what Mark Twain said about 
people in olden times being born on the bridge, living 
on it all their lives, and finally dying on it, without 
ever having been in any other part of the world ?” said 
Phil, looking about him with lively interest. 

“Well, I don’t blame them much,” Jessie answered; 
“it is fascinating.” 

“Yes; only they don’t have the heads of Dukes and 
things on spikes the way they used to,” Evelyn com- 
plained. 

“Goodness, Evelyn, you can’t expect everything! 
Besides, you wouldn’t actually like to see those things,” 
cried Lucile, horrified. 


188 Lucile Triumphant 

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t like to look at them,” 
Evelyn retracted, embarrassed by so many laugh- 
ing eyes upon her. “But if they were there, I 
just couldn’t help looking, could I?” she finished, 
lamely. 

There was a shout, and Jessie exclaimed, “I do be- 
lieve you’d enjoy being a cannibal, Evelyn. You and 
the black-skins certainly have a great many views in 
common.” 

At last they had left the bridge behind and were 
once more speeding through the historic streets of 
London. 

“The Abbey now, Dad?” Phil questioned, eagerly. 
“That’s what I came to Europe to see, you know.” 

“Seems to me you’re getting mighty familiar,” com- 
mented Jessie. “Why don’t you call it by its full 
name ?” 

“Are we. Dad?” said Phil, ignoring the interrup- 
tion. 

*‘We are,” said Mr. Payton. “I’ve been wanting to 
see it, along with other things, all my life, Phil. You 
see, I wasn’t so lucky as you. However, I expect to 
make up for lost time.” 

“Well, it’s a treat just to ride along the streets,” 


189 


The Glory of the Past 

said Evelyn. “It’s so very different from anything I 
ever saw before.” 

“Yes; you could imagine you were reading 
Dickens,” said Lucile, her eyes bright with the idea. 
“Why, that little shop might almost be the same one 
where ” 

“Uncle Sol and Cap’n Cuttle hung out,” said Phil. 

“Yes,” Jessie added, excitedly. “And you can al- 
most seee little Florence Dombey ” 

“And her black-eyed maid, Susan,” said Evelyn, 
eagerly, and they all laughed delightedly at the picture. 

“Gee, it does seem to make his books lots more 
real,” Phil chuckled. “Dear old Cap’n Cuttle and 
Uncle Sol’s nevvy, Wal’r — you remember him, don’t 
you ?” 

Of course they did. So on they went, most of the 
time in gales of merriment, as some house or modest 
little shop suggested some character or happening in 
the books of the great writer and humorist. 

So happy were they in their imagining that they 
were almost sorry to find themselves at their destina- 
tion. 

“Oh, so soon?” cried Lucile, trying vainly to 
straighten the corners of her laughing mouth into 


190 


Lucile Triumphant 


some semblance of the sobriety that befitted so great 
an occasion. “Oh, I never get enough of anything!” 
This last a protest against fate. 

“Greedy child!” whispered Evelyn, lovingly, as the 
chauffeur opened the door. “It’s a great deal better 
than having too much of everything,” she added, phil- 
osophically. 

Phil was standing a little apart from the rest and 
was gazing with rapturous awe at this object of his 
boyish adoration. 

“Gee, Lucy, look at it !” he murmured, as his sister 
tucked her arm in his in mute understanding. “Think 
of the architect or architects that could plan that mag- 
nificent structure !” 

“It is wonderful,” Lucile agreed, softly, sobered by 
the beauty, the infinite repose and dignity of the old, 
historic pile. “Phil, can you really imagine we are 
standing here in London, actually looking at West- 
minster Abbey? I can’t.” 

“It sure does seem impossible, little sister,” Phil 
answered, understandingly. “But so it is. I guess 
Dad wants us now; he seems to be ready,” he added, 
as Mr. Payton beckoned to them. 

“Yes,” began Evelyn, the irrepressible. “I want to 


The Glory of the Past 191 

see all the sesoph — sarcophaguses — gse — — ” she floun- 
dered hopeless and looked to the others for relief. 

^‘Perhaps you . mean sarcophagi,” Jessie suggested, 
loftily, while the others laughed at her discomfiture. 

“Well, whatever it is, I want to see it,” she per- 
sisted, doggedly. 

“Don’t worry; you shall,” Lucile promised. “If I 
know anything about it, you will have plenty of time 
to see everything, for I’m not going home till I 
have to.” 

A moment more and they had stepped within the 
great, silent, shadow-filled cathedral. The light and 
sunshine of the out-of-doors made the contrast rnore 
impressive, and in the wonder of the moment the girls 
drew closer together. Gone was all their levity now, 
buried deep beneath an overwhelming reverence for 
this great architectural masterpiece — exalted resting- 
place of England’s noblest men. 

The mellow, softly-tinted light from a hundred 
lofty windows bathed the clustering pillars, the mag- 
nificent nave and choir in a soft, roseate glow. To the 
girls it seemed that all the glory, all the romance, all 
the pomp and splendid grandeur of the ages lay em- 
bodied there. 


192 Lucile Triumphant 

Lucile’s hand was cold as it rested on her father’s. 
‘‘Dad,” she breathed, “it almost makes you feel the 
wonderful scenes it has witnessed.” 

“Do you wish to be shown about the Abbey?” The 
calm voice startled them and they turned sharply. 

“Why, yes,” said Mr. Payton to the tall, thin, 
aesthetic-looking young man who stood regarding them 
blandly. “We will be glad to have you act as guide.” 

This the young man did, and to such good effect that 
the girls and Phil were soon hanging on every word. 

The magnificent choir held for them especial in- 
terest, for it was there had taken place the gorgeous 
coronations of the kings of England from the time of 
Harold. 

“It seems like a fairy tale, anyway,” said Jessie, 
wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. “Why, to think of all 
the great monarchs of England — Richard the Third 
and Henry the Eighth and Queen Elizabeth — actually 
being crowned on this spot ! Why, it is the next best 
thing to seeing the coronation itself !” 

From there the party passed into the north tran- 
sept, where lay, for the most part, the great statesmen 
and warriors of England. 

But it was in the south transept, in the poets’ cor- 


193 


The Glory of the Past 

ner, where were erected memorials of the great Eng- 
lish writers, that our party was most interested. 
Chaucer, Shakespeare, Thackeray, Dickens — magic 
names, names to conjure with! 

Their English guide grew more eloquent and his 
face flushed with pride as he went into eulogies of 
these great men who had made England famous in 
the literary world. 

They lingered longer over Dickens’ tomb, visioning 
the man who, by the far-reaching genius of his pen, 
could sway multitudes to laughter or tears at will. 

“And it is to Dickens, largely, that we owe the 
marvelous improvement in social conditions among the 
lower classes,” the young man finished. “If it had 
not been for the boldness of his pen, we might still 
be going blithely along, blind to the miserable, unjust 
conditions that so prevailed among the poor of his 
time.” 

And so the afternoon wore blissfully on, till Mr. 
Payton drew out his watch and four pairs of eager 
young eyes followed the action fearfully. 

“It can’t be late, Dad,” from Lucile. 

“After six,” said Mr. Payton, and they groaned in 
unison. “I’m as sorry as you young folks to tear my- 


194 Lucile Triumphant 

self away, but rm afraid weVe seen all we can for 
to-day/' 

Slowly, and each step a protest against a necessity 
that demanded their return so soon, the girls made 
their reluctant way to the door of the cathedral. 

Before they stepped into the waiting machine, our 
party turned for one more look at the Abbey. 

“Oh, Dad, did you ever see anything like it?" 
breathed Lucile. 

“There is nothing like it," her father answered, 
slowly. “It is a testimony in stone, a silent epitome 
of the glorious, stately, romance-filled history of Eng- 
land!" 


CHAPTER XVIII 


GREAT EXPECTATIONS 

‘‘And to think that the Applegates own a motor 
boat!” It was Lucile who spoke. 

The girls were walking down the quaint, narrow 
street at the side of the hotel. Although it was very 
early, scarcely seven o’clock, the girls had been up and 
dressed for nearly half an hour. There was so much 
to be seen and thought about and talked about that 
an ordinary day, begun at, say, eight o’clock, seemed 
to these young people wholly inadequate. So it was 
they happened to be taking a walk while other guests 
of the hotel were just beginning to wake up, talking 
over the events of the day before and beginning to 
feel a most inordinate longing for breakfast. 

“I’m awfully glad,” Jessie was saying, in answer 
to Lucile’s remark. “We ought to have a great old 
time to-day. Oh, girls. I’m so hungry!” 

“That’s the tenth time you’ve said that very same 
thing within the last ten minutes, Jessie,” said Evelyn, 
teasingly. “That suit is awfully becoming, Lucy,” she 
approved. 


195 


196 


Lucile Triumphant 


“What do you mean?” queried Lucile of Jessie, 
while she thanked Evelyn with a bright smile. 

“Oh, you don’t pay any attention to me at all, and 
nobody throws any compliments in my direction,” 
and Jessie contrived to look very injured and for- 
lorn. 

“Why, we were listening with all our ears,” de- 
claimed Lucile; then added, naively, “What did you 
say?” 

“Humph!” grunted Jessie. “I just said I was 
hungry.” 

“So are we all of us,” sang Lucile, cheerily. “And 
if my nose does not deceive me, there issueth from the 
regions of various kitchens a blithe and savory odor — 
as of fresh muffins, golden-yellow eggs, just fried to 
a turn, and luscious, juicy, crisp ” 

“Oh, Lucy, don’t! I can’t bear it!” shrieked Jes- 
sie, covering her ears with her hands. “Eggs and 
bacon and — oh — oh ” 

“No; bacon and eggs,” corrected Evelyn, soberly; 
“and cereal, with lots and oodles of rich cream — and 
maybe some marmalade ” 

“Is this a conspiracy?” cried Jessie, glowering bel- 
ligerently at the two mischievous faces. “Girls, if you 


197 


Great Expectations 

only had an idea how hungry I am, you wouldn’t 
joke; it’s too serious.” 

‘‘My goodness, don’t you think we’re hungry, too ?” 
cried Lucile. “Why, I’m so hungry a piece of dried 
bread would taste like — like ” She hunted des- 
perately for a comparison. 

“Ambrosia and nectar,” began Evelyn. 

“And a pinch of angels’ food mixed in,” finished Lu- 
cile, laughing. “Why, I’d steal, murder, anything, 
for it!” 

“My, you must be worse off than I am,” said Jes- 
sie, regarding her friend with awe. “I wouldn’t do all 
that for anything less than chicken.” 

Then they all laughed, just because they couldn’t 
help it — the world was such a wonderful place to 
live in. 

“Just the same. I’ve never eaten anything since that 
tasted like the food we cooked in camp,” sighed Lucile. 

“You must guard against giving wrong impressions, 
Lucy,” Jessie admonished, gravely. “Anybody, hear- 
ing you, might actually imagine you could cook.” 

“When I made that remark I had yqu in mind, Jes- 
sie, dear,” purred Lucile. 

“In that case, of course 


198 


Lucile Triumphant 


“I wonder what the girls are doing this minute,” 
Evelyn interrupted, dreamily. “I’d give the world to 
get just one little glimpse of them and our guardian 
and Jim and Jeddie ” 

“Don’t! You make me homesick,” pleaded Lucile. 
“It seems strange to think there's a whole ocean be- 
tween us. I wonder if we’ll be able to tell our guar- 
dian, when we do see her, that we have tried faith- 
fully to live up to the camp-fire laws — even when we 
were so far away.” 

“Well, there are two of them that we surely haven’t 
broken,” said Evelyn, soberly, “and they are — hold on 
to health, and be happy.” 

“Yes; and we’ve pursued knowledge so hungrily 
that I haven’t begun to get the facts all straightened 
out yet,” said Jessie, in funny bewilderment. 

“I guess we’re all in the same boat there,” Lucile 
comforted. “There is one thing I’m learning pretty 
well, though, and that is to count in shillings and 
pence. I can figure in English money almost as well 
as in United States now.” 

“So can I, and I' haven’t eaten more than two 
candies in a week, and they were little ones,” Jessie 
confided, virtuously. 


Great Expectations 199 

‘^And I haven’t used slang for, oh, I don’t know 
how long,” cried Evelyn. “And I wasn’t rude even to 
that old man who stepped on my foot and then looked 
cross ” 

Lucile laughed infectiously. “Goodness, we’re in a 
fair way to become three little angels,” she laughed. 

“Aren’t you girls coming in to breakfast?” said 
Phil, appearing for a minute at the door as they passed. 
“If you are, follow me” — and they needed no second 
invitation. 

In response to Mrs. Applegate’s very cordial in- 
vitation, Mrs. Payton and the girls had made their 
visit the day before. It was then they had learned, to 
their surprise, that the former owned a beautiful motor 
boat, anchored farther up the Thames. What was 
their great delight when Mrs. Applegate voiced her 
hope that they had made no special plans for the mor- 
row, as she had arranged a little party and was count- 
ing on them to make it complete. Of course, they had 
assured her that no plans could be so important as to 
stand in the way of so tempting an invitation; so it 
had been settled to the satisfaction of every one. 

It was just nine o’clock when they climbed into the 
automobile and Mr. Payton started to give the chauf- 


200 Lucile Triumphant 

feur his directions. He was to drive through Hyde 
Park, entering it through the beautiful gate at Hyde 
Park Corner and ending with the magnificent Marble 
Arch. From there they would drive straight to Hen- 
ley, where they were to meet the Applegates. 

“It’s good we started early; now we can see lots 
before we meet the other people,” said Jessie, con- 
tentedly. 

“Can’t we get out. Dad,” begged Lucile, “and get 
a little closer look at Kensington Gardens — I love to 
say it; it sounds so very English, don’t you know — 
just for a little while? Can’t we. Mother? It looks 
so pretty!” 

“No; we’ll have just time to ride through the park,” 
Mrs. Payton answered, and Lucile must needs be sat- 
isfied. 

“I read somewhere that they took several hundred 
acres from the park to enlarge the gardens,” Phil 
volunteered. “Is that so. Dad?” 

“Yes; three hundred, I think it was,” his father an- 
swered. “And now here we are, before the famous 
Hyde Park itself!” 

As they entered the park through a most imposing 
gateway the girls uttered a little cry of admiration. 


Great Expectations 201 

‘The lawns are like velvet!” cried Lucile. “And 
those exquisite flowering shrubs! What do you call 
them, Mother?” 

“I think they are hawthorne bushes,” Mrs. Payton 
answered, absently. 

“And the flowers ! Did you ever see such gorgeous 
tints?” said Jessie. “And the splendid old trees! 
Why, they look as if they might be a million years 
old!” 

“I bet some of them could tell many a tale of duels 
fought beneath their shade in the time when such 
things were the fashion,” remarked Phil, and Evelyn 
turned to him with shining eyes. 

“You mean real duels, where they both fight till 
one of them gets killed? Oh!” 

“It’s plain to be seen you were born a century too 
late, Evelyn,” Jessie remarked, mournfully. 

“I don’t care; it must have been fun,” she main- 
tained. 

“Lots,” Lucile agreed, gravely. “I can’t imagine 
anything funnier than having a couple of silked and 
satined gentlemen sticking spears into each other for 
my sweet sake.” 

The description did not coincide in the least with 


202 Lucile Triumphant 

that of authors and historians who love to dwell on 
those chivalrous days, but it accomplished its purpose, 
nevertheless; it sent our girls into gales of laughter. 

“You’re jealous, that’s all,” Evelyn remarked, when 
she could make herself heard. 

The beauty and grandeur of the great Marble Arch 
sobered them a trifle and they were enthusiastic in 
their admiration. Then, when they could look no 
longer, they continued toward their rendezvous, leav- 
ing the beautiful, historic park behind and speeding 
along the Thames embankment toward Henley. 

As they advanced further out of the city and deeper 
into the country, they were dazzled by the beauty of 
the scenery. The sun struck hot and bright upon the 
road, while the shrubs and foliage on the outskirts of 
the woodland seemed outlined in molten gold against 
the softer background of shadowy green. The river 
shone and sparkled in the brilliant sun like some great, 
glistening jewel turned to liquid sunshine. The world 
was bathed in gold. 

“If our guardian were only here!” Lucile mur- 
mured. “And little Margaret!” 

Jessie turned to her, surprised. “How did you know 
what I was thinking about?” she demanded. 


Great Expectations 203 

‘‘I didn’t,” said Lucile ; “only, when I see the woods 
and the water, it makes me think of the camp-fire and 
our guardian and little Margaret — — ” 

“Isn’t this where we stop. Dad?” Phil interrupted; 
and they had no time for further conversation. 

As they alighted, a man came up to them and, touch- 
ing his hat, said that he was from the “Vigil” and was 
looking for a party bound there. 

Upon Mr. Payton’s assuring the man that his was 
the party in question, they stepped into the trim little 
launch that was to bear them to their destination. 

“Say, wouldn’t it be great to have a little motor 
boat like this down at the river?” said Lucile, trailing 
her hand in the warm water. “Just think of the races 
we could have with it — although nothing could be 
much more exciting than the one we had,” she added, 
loyally. 

“Of course it couldn’t,” Jessie agreed. “I’d rather 
paddle any time.” 

“You must admit you can’t go quite as fast,” teased 
Phil. “Almost, of course, but not quite.” 

“We never admit anything,” Lucile retorted. “Be- 
sides, I dare say we could go a good deal faster than 
some motor boats.” 


204 Lucile Triumphant 

“Sure,” said Phil, encouragingly. “Pve seen lots 
of old tubs, minus the motor, that I’m sure you could 
run rings around.” 

“Phil, if you don’t stop talking about things you 
don’t understand,” began Jessie. 

“Is there anything?” asked Phil, with interest. 

“We’ll dump you out and make you walk to shore,” 
she added, treating his remark with the haughty dis- 
dain it deserved. 

“It’s a long way to shore,” said Phil, with a rueful 
glance over his shoulder. “Give me one more chance, 
fair damsel, and I will promise never to offend again.” 

“Oh, if I could only believe him!” said Jessie, 
prayerfully. 

Lucile laughed and flipped a salt drop toward the 
offending Phil. “You mustn’t be too hard on him, 
Jessie,” she remonstrated. “You know, he really 
might be worse.” 

“Thanks, sweet sister,” said Phil, gratefully. 

By this time the little launch had noisily chug- 
chugged its way among the various craft, small and 
large, and had finally come to a standstill beside a 
beautiful boat, upoil whose bow and stern was en- 
graved the name “Vigil.” 


Great Expectations 205 

The Applegates, proud owners of the “Vigil,’' 
crowded eagerly to the rail to welcome their guests. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you could come,” cried Mrs. Ap- 
plegate, as Phil and Mr. Payton climbed the short lad- 
der preparatory to helping the women folk on board. 
“The Dickensons and Archie Blackstone — we came 
over with them, you know — are on board.” 

There was an enthusiastic meeting between the 
fellow-voyagers, for they had formed a sort of 
mutual-admiration society while on board the “Maure- 
tania” and were only too glad to come together 
again. 

While their fathers and mothers were talking, the 
young folks had seized upon the opportunity to look 
about them. They were just at the height of this 
delightful process when Mrs. Applegate hailed them. 

“Don’t you girls want to come down in the cabin 
and take your wraps off?” she called. 

“Surely; we’re coming right away,” Lucile an- 
swered for them. 

“Why do you have to fix up any?” protested 
Archie. “You look fine just as you are. What’s the 
use of wasting an hour ?” 

“We’re not going to fix up,” denied Lucile; then 


206 Lucile Triumphant 

added, “It won’t take us an hour, anyway. We’ll be 
back in five minutes.” 

“Oh, how I'd like to believe you!” said Archie, as 
they disappeared down the companionway. 

“Get out your watch,” challenged Lucile. “I’ll 
wager a pound of my home-made fudge against a 
pound of Huyler’s that we’ll be back before the five 
minutes are up.” 

“If I were you. Arch,” said Phil, loudly, for the 
benefit of his sister, “I’d rather lose than win,” which 
was treated with a laugh of merry derision. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE BREATH OF THE WAR GOD 

The girls proved as good as their word and five 
minutes later tumbled breathlessly on deck, cheeks 
flushed and eyes shining with triumph. 

“Where's that pound of Huylers?" Lucile de- 
manded, with an “I told you so” look at Archie. 

“Fll pay it as soon as we get to shore,” he prom- 
ised. “It’s worth ten boxes of candies to see you so 
soon,” he added, gallantly, and, catching Lucile about 
the waist, he fox-trotted up the deck to the accom- 
paniment of his own merry whistle. 

“Oh, we can do that, too,” said Phil, not to be out- 
done in anything, and soon they were all at it with a 
swing and a go that made their fond parents, who had 
come up in the meantime and were watching them, 
marvel. 

“I can give you something better than that to dance 

to,” said Mrs. Applegate, when they had stopped from 

sheer lack of breath. “There is a phonograph below, 

and if you boys don’t mind the trouble, you might 
207 


208 Lucile Triumphant 

bring it on deck and start it going. Then you can 
dance to your hearts’ content.” 

Phil gave a whoop of joy and nearly fell down the 
companionway in his eagerness to find the machine, 
and the other two boys followed closely on his heels. 

“There seems to be no lack of enthusiasm,” re- 
marked Mrs. Applegate, as the ladies made themselves 
comfortable in the big chairs placed against the rail. 
“They can’t seem to get tired. I never knew there 
was so much bottled-up energy.” 

The boys soon returned with the phonograph and 
they were having the time of their lives teaching each 
other the newest steps when they were interrupted by 
the arrival of some people from the boat club, who 
had been invited to meet them. 

There were three girls and three boys somewhere 
about their own age and four of the club’s most popu- 
lar members and their wives. 

“There sure is going to be a crowd,” said Archie, 
as the newcomers began to pour over the side, all 
talking at once. “I wish we could have finished that 
dance,” he added, regretfully. 

“Oh, there will be plenty more,” said Lucile, smil- 
ing roguishly in a way that made him wish all these 


The Breath of the War God 


209 


intruders — for so he regarded them — were at least as 
far away as the North Pole. 

Soon the introductions were over and the girls 
found themselves liking the gay young strangers im- 
mensely. Their English accent and the way they said, 
“Bah Jove!’' and “Beastly hot weather, what?” fasci- 
nated the uninitiated girls, and they were soon imi- 
tating their new-found friends with surprising success. 

“You were dancing when we arrived, weren’t you?” 
asked Anita Derby, a dashing, fair-haired girl, who 
made almost as many enemies as friends with a rather 
sharp, unbridled tongue. “I thought I heard a phono- 
graph. What was it you were playing?” 

“ ‘Good-by, Girls,’ from ‘Chin Chin,’ ” said Lucile. 
“It’s a splendid fox trot.” 

“Never heard of it,” said Anita. “Peculiar name — 
‘Chin Chin’ — what?” 

Lucile was about to reply when Mr. Applegate in- 
terrupted. 

“There’s a stiff breeze on the way,” he said, casting 
his weather eye aloft. “And, from the looks of things, 
it’s more than possible we may run into a storm some- 
where up the river. However, we’ll have to take a 
chance on that.” 


210 


Lucile Triumphant 


‘^Oh, I wonder if we will/’ cried Lucile. 

‘‘Don’t worry,” said Gordon Ridgely, whose gaze 
had not wandered from Lucile’s bright face, with its 
dancing eyes and mischievous mouth, always quirked 
in a smile and showing the dimples in the corners of 
it — he wondered how many dimples she had, any- 
way — since he had come on board. “If you will come 
with me forward,” he added, “I’ll show you the pret- 
tiest view of the river there is. B’ Jove, it’s incom- 
parable !” 

Lucile consented rather hesitatingly. To tell the 
truth, she would much rather have stayed where she 
was. Nevertheless, they went off around the corner 
of the cabin, while Archie watched them with a gloomy 
frown on his face. 

“Nervy beggar!” he muttered. 

Evelyn squeezed Jessie’s hand and whispered, de- 
lightedly, “Did you see the look Archie gave that 
‘bally Henglishman’ ? There will be a regular duel in 
Hyde Park yet.” 

“Shouldn’t wonder. I don’t know how Lucy ever 
does it.” 

Meanwhile, Lucile’s cavalier, Gordon Ridgely, had 
helped her carefully along the deck and established her 


The Breath of the War God 211 

in a corner from which he had declared the view “in- 
comparable/' 

“This is rippin’ luck," he cried, seizing a couple of 
handy chairs and dragging them to the rail. “The 
bally things knew we were coming!" 

Lucile laughed happily. She liked being taken care 
of; it made her think of Jack. Meanwhile, the breeze, 
which had been steadily rising, had grown perceptibly 
stronger. 

“Oh, this is wonderful!" breathed Lucile, leaning 
forward and drinking in the beautiful scene. “Tve 
wanted a chance to sail in a real motor boat all my 
life." 

“Well, does it meet with your expectations?" 

“It’s beginning to. You know, I was crazy about 
the river yesterday — ^it was all so different from any- 
thing I had ever seen and a thousand times more in- 
teresting; but now I can see that I had only begun 
to appreciate it." 

“Oh, it’s not such a bad old river," he said, letting 
his gaze wander out over the water. “I suppose it 
appeals more to strangers than it does to us natives. 
For instance, I would much rather see your Hudson 
River than this." 


212 


Lucile Triumphant 


“I suppose so/' said Lucile, dreamily, and then 
added, almost as though speaking to herself, “But the 
Hudson, though, of course, it is beautiful and much 
larger than this, is in a new country, while the Thames 
— why, the very name makes you think of those old 
times when there were noble knights and beautiful 
ladies and jousts and all sorts of interesting things. 
In those days the knights seemed to go around with a 
chip on their shoulders all the time. If you happened 
to step on their foot or any other little thing, they'd 
flare up, throw a glove or something in your face — I 
should think it must have hurt sometimes, too — and 
command you to joust for the honor of knight or 

lady " She broke off with a little laugh and added, 

demurely, “I don’t know what you must think of me — 
I'm not always like this, you know." 

“I think you’re " he began, but just what he 

thought was never expressed, for Mr. Payton and a 
friend, coming upon them unexpectedly, uttered a 
surprised exclamation. 

“Oh, here you are!" he said, amusement in the 
glance he gave them. “The young folks are about to 
start the Victrola; don't you want to join them?" 

As if to give proof to his words, a merry one-step 


The Breath of the War God 


213 


reached them from the after deck and Lucile sprang 
to her feet, looking toward her escort invitingly. 

“We can’t miss this,” she said, with conviction. 

Young Ridgely looked as if he could miss it with 
great pleasure, but he followed her to the after deck, 
nevertheless. 

“Will you go back again after the dance?” he 
pleaded, as they joined the others. “We were having 
such a good talk.” 

“Perhaps,” she half promised, with a tantalizing lit- 
tle laugh, and a moment after was swept off into the 
dance by Archie, who had been seriously considering 
organizing a search party. 

“You were away a mighty long time,” he re- 
proached her. “What were you doing all the time 
with that Ridgely guy?” 

“I shouldn’t call him a guy; he’s a very nice fel- 
low,” said Lucile, demurely. “Besides, we were only 
admiring the view.” 

“Huh!” grunted Archie, unconvinced. “I dare say 
he found the view very interesting,” he added, mean- 
ingly. 

“Doubtless he did, since he wants to go back and 
look at it all over again,” she said, wickedly; then, to 


214 Lucile Triumphant 

change the subject, “Doesn’t Jessie dance wonder- 
fully? I never saw such an improvement in any one.” 

“Yes, she dances well, but she can’t touch you; no- 
body can.” 

So the morning wore merrily on, the young folks 
stopping only long enough to get their breath between 
dances. Then came the ever-welcome call to lunch 
and they tumbled down to the roomy cabin, followed 
more sedately by their elders, who had enjoyed the 
morning as much as their offspring, though less riot- 
ously. It was a delicious luncheon and, with the added 
flavor of romantic surroundings and congenial com- 
pany, was altogether a memorable affair. 

When they reached the deck again, they were sur- 
prised to find that the sun, which had been shining so 
brightly before, had gone under a cloud, while the 
smooth surface of the water was stirred into ripples 
and eddies by an ever-increasing wind. 

“Looks mighty threatening,” said Phil, anxiously. 
“I hope we don’t have a downpour.” 

The others viewed the sudden change with equal 
trepidation. 

“Look at that bank of clouds over there, Lucile,” 
said Archie, pointing to a gigantic cloud formation. 


The Breath of the War God 


215 


black and threatening, and moving swiftly in their 
direction. “By the way, I take back all I said about 
your prophecies this morning; it sure looks as if we 
were in for it now. Wonder what Mr. Applegate 
thinks of it.” 

What Mr. Applegate thought of it proved to be cer- 
tain confirmation of their fears. He stood regarding 
the threatening sky-line with an anxious frown on his 
forehead. A moment later a sudden gust of wind 
struck the boat, heeling it so far to one side that they 
had to grip the rail and each other to keep from fall- 
ing, while the vivid flash of lightning, followed by a 
low, ominous roll of thunder, made them draw closer 
together. 

The captain was roused to sudden action. Turning 
to his guests, he said, “If you folks don’t want to get 
wet, you had better make your way down below. The 
storm is due to break any minute now.” 

Obediently, but reluctantly, they followed directions, 
descending into the now almost twilight gloom of the 
cabin. 

“Goodness ! Whoever would have thought it would 
get dark so quickly?” said Anita Derby, fearfully. 
“If there is one thing I detest it is a thunderstorm.” 


216 Lucile Triumphant 

“I think it’s kind of exciting,” said Lucile, snuggling 
into a corner of the great leather-cushioned settle that 
ran around three sides of the cabin and pushing aside 
a curtain that obstructed her view. “I’ve always 
wanted to be on the water in a storm. Oh, look at that 
flash ! Did you ever see anything so vivid ?” But her 
voice was drowned in the great crash of thunder that 
followed it. 

It struck the earth with terrific force; then retired, 
grumbling and muttering like some tremendous mon- 
ster robbed of its prey. Then the rain began, pouring 
down in torrents, dashing itself upon the cabin roof 
and windows with such violence it seemed solid wood 
and glass must give way before it. It raged ; it danced 
in frenzy; it hurled itself in stinging dagger points 
upon the deck, while the wind shrieked a weirdly wild 
accompaniment. 

“It’s a hurricane!” shouted Jessie above the wind, 
and some way in the semi-darkness she found her way 
to Lucile’s side, where Evelyn had come before her. 
It was strange how the three friends clung together 
instinctively. 

“Oh, Lucy, do you suppose we could possibly be 
swamped ?” 


The Breath of the War God 


217 


“Of course not,” said Lucile, trying with difficulty 
to be reassuring, as a sudden lurch of the boat sent her 
back against the cushions. “Didn’t you hear the cap- 
tain say we were perfectly safe?” 

“How’s this for a storm, eh?” yelled Phil, balancing 
v/ith difficulty. “If it wasn’t for Mother, I’d go on 
deck and watch.” 

“And get struck by lightning,” said Lucile. “Oh-h !” 
as another flash rent the darkness, followed by a ter- 
rific crash of thunder. “This can’t last long.” 

“Don’t be alarmed, any one.” It was Mr. Apple- 
gate’s voice, and though they couldn’t locate him in 
the gloom, it was a comfort just to hear him speak. 
“It’s only a hard shower and an unusually strong wind. 
It will blow itself out in ten minutes.” 

The captain was right, and in less time than he al- 
lowed the storm began to abate; the flashes of light- 
ning became less frequent, the thunder less and less 
fierce, and the gloom began to lighten so they could 
distinguish each other. Slowly and reluctantly the 
wind died away until only the rolling of the boat re- 
mained to testify to its violence. 

As soon as Mr. Applegate thought it wise to venture 
on deck, the whole party very willingly repaired there. 


218 Lucile Triumphant 

The sky was still a dull, leaden color, but around the 
spot where the sun was hiding behind the banked-up 
clouds shone a misty radiance, sure prophecy of 
brightness to come. 

They were still finding it rather hard to recover 
their former hilarious spirits when, fifteen minutes 
later, the sky opened as if by magic, letting forth a 
burst of golden sunshine that flooded the river and 
danced on the water so gladly and joyously that the 
girls and boys shouted with delight. 

^‘You wonderful oki sun!” cried Lucile. “Why, it 
makes the world a different place to live in !” 

“It is all the difference between night and day,” said 
Major Ridgely, Gordon’s father, a tall, well-built man 
with a mass of iron-gray hair framing a strong-fea- 
tured face — ^the face of a scholar and a gentleman. 
“And it’s like the difference,” he continued, slowly and 
with emphasis, “it’s like the difference between peace 
and — war.” 

There was silence for a full moment while the 
young folks regarded him with astonishment and in- 
terest, foi" they sensed a deeper meaning behind his 
words. 

“You mean,” it was Mr. Payton that spoke, “you 


The Breath of the War God 


219 


mean, Major, that you think there is any immediate 
danger of — war?” 

‘‘War— is — imminent.” The Major spoke slowly, 
pronouncing each word with exaggerated distinctness. 
“I am no prophet, sir, but, unless I am very much mis- 
taken, the month of August will see part of this con- 
tinent plunged in the bloodiest war the world has ever 
known.” 

“War! War!” The word ran from one to the 
other, as the Major continued: 

“It has been coming for years. For years the in- 
terests and ambitions of at least two great nations — 
Germany and Russia — have been antagonistic. For 
years the countries of Europe have been looking for- 
ward to the time when the slender strand of national 
amity would be snapped like a thread and the nations 
plunged into deadly conflict. And now, it seems to 
me, the time is ripe!” 

The young folks had been drinking in the conversa- 
tion eagerly. War! Why, they had read of war, of 
course, in their history books ; but war, in their time, 
in their generation, under their very noses, as it were ! 
Why, it was impossible! 

But the Major was speaking again. “For years the 


220 


Lucile Triumphant 


sole aim and goal of the German house of Hohenzol- 
lern has been the perfection to a marvelous degree of 
her policy of militarism. Why, there is not a man in 
the whole German Empire who, at the command of 
his country, could not take his place, a trained soldier, 
in the tremendous, perfected military machine that is 
the German army.” 

‘‘Why, Dad, does that mean that we may have to 
fight?” fairly shouted Phil, who could not contain 
himself a moment longer. “Now, right away ” 

“We won’t, son,” said his father, kindly. “Thank 
Heaven, we will have the broad Atlantic between us 
and the horrors of war !” 

“War? Who talks of war?” cried little Mrs. Ap- 
plegate, coming breezily up to them from the depths, 
where she had probably been giving some very im- 
portant instructions for dinner. “I won’t have the 
ugly word spoken on board my ship. Why, everybody 
looks as if they had seen a ghost. What have you been 
talking about?” 

“Why, you heard, my dear,” said her husband, 
kindly. “We were simply discussing the possibility 
of ” 


“Stop!” shrieked the little woman, clapping her 


The Breath of the War God 


221 


hands to her ears. “I won’t have it ! Somebody start 
the phonograph — do!” 

Gordon laughingly obeyed and soon they were all 
dancing as merrily as if the great cloud of war were 
not hanging over all Europe. When the young folks 
were tired of dancing they settled themselves com- 
fortably on the deck, talking, laughing, singing college 
songs, and otherwise enjoying themselves. 

It was not till evening, when they had bidden their 
hosts good-night, after thanking them heartily for “the 
most glorious day they had ever spent,” that the topic 
of the afternoon was again referred to. 

“Do you think there is really any possibility of 
war?” Lucile asked of Archie, as they were nearing 
the hotel. 

“There’s no telling,” he answered, seriously. “It 
looks rather like it now. You and I needn’t worry, 
anyhow; we won’t get any of it. Unless,” he added, 
whimsically, “unless you should decide to go as a 
Red Cross nurse. Then I might even desert the 
Red, White and Blue and volunteer my services in the 
war.” 

And so they parted, with an almost imperceptible 
cloud shadowing their gayety. Little did Archie think. 


222 Lucile Triumphant 

when he declared so confidently that “they wouldn’t 
get any of it,” that, before the summer was over, they 
would experience to some infinitesimal extent the 
cruel, relentless, crushing power of that tremendous 
grinding machine men term — ^WAR ! 


CHAPTER XX 


CROSSING THE CHANNEL 

Two days later our party started for France by way 
of Dover. They parted regretfully from their friends, 
who were obliged to remain in London a few days 
longer, and it is safe to say the others, the boys at 
least, were even more sorry to part from them. They 
had not expected any one to see them off, and so it 
was a complete surprise when they found, not only 
the Dickensons and Archie, but all the rest of the jolly 
yachting party, waiting to say good-by to them and 
speed them on their way. 

Our girls were showered with good wishes and 
pleadings from the boys not to “forget them altogether 
in the gay and riotous life of Paris.’' They promised 
laughingly, thankful to their friends for making the 
parting a so much easier one than they had anticipated. 

The little packet steamed away from the dock and 
the girls waved to the group on the wharf and the 
group on the wharf waved to them until they were out 
of sight. 


223 


2'24 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Wasn’t that lovely of them?” fairly beamed Lucile, 
as she turned from the last wave at the little dots that 
had been people. “I think they are the j oiliest crowd 
Lve ever met. Jessie, your bow is crooked; hold still 
a minute. There, it’s all right now. Oh, girls. I’m so 
happy that, if some one doesn’t hold me down, I’ll go 
up in the air like a balloon and sit on that fluffy white 
cloud. No, that one over there, the one that looks 
like a canary bird.” 

“Goodness! She’s quite romantic!” said Jessie, 
squinting up at the cloud in question. “It looks more 
like an elephant to me.” 

“To come down from the discussion of clouds and 
elephants,” began Evelyn, “to every-day matters, I 
wonder if that Frenchman we met on the steamer — 
what was his name? Oh, yes, I remember; Monsieur 
Charloix — I wonder if he’s found that girl yet.” 

“And the fortune,” added Lucile. “Don’t forget to 
mention the most important part. I’ve ” 

“Lucy, how very mercenary!” reproved Jessie. 

“Don’t you call my sister names,” said Phil, who 
was always pretending surprise at Jessie’s long words. 

“I’ve been wondering about that myself,” said Lu- 
cile, ignoring Phil’s remark. “Now that we’re ^oing. 


Crossing the Channel 225 

to France, perhaps we will hear something about him.” 

“France is supposed to be a respectable-sized town,” 
said Phil, with what was meant to be biting sarcasm. 
“It’s not like Burleigh, where Angela Peabody can 
tell you the history of everybody in town, and then 
some. We might be in Paris a year and never hear 
a word about him.” 

“I realize that quite as well as you do, brother, dear,’' 
said Lucile, sweetly. “However, you must admit that 
there is more chance of our finding out something 
about the gentleman in France than there was in 
London.” 

“Or in Egypt,” Phil agreed, and Lucile gave up with 
a little shrug of her shoulders. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway; only I would like 
to know the end. It’s like starting to read an inter- 
esting serial story in a magazine, and just when you 
get to the most exciting part, you come up against a 
‘To be continued in our next.’ Look !” she added, ir- 
relevantly, clutching Jessie’s wrist and pointing up- 
ward. “Now the cloud has changed shape again. It’s 
the image of old Jim’s dog. Bull.” 

Phil turned away in utter disgust. “You don’t have 
to go to Bronx Park to see the zoo,” he muttered. 


226 Lucile Triumphant 

^‘Not when we have you with us,” Jessie retorted, 
at which Phil retreated in undignified haste. 

The girls turned laughingly to each other. 

*‘What do you say if we have an old-fashioned 
talk?” suggested Evelyn. “There has been such a 
crowd around all the time that we haven’t had a min- 
ute to talk things over.” 

Lucile and Jessie readily agreed, and they hunted 
around for a secluded spot in which to “talk things 
over.” 

“Let’s not sit in any regular, ordinary old place to- 
day,” said Lucile. “Let’s find some snug little corner 
in the stern, where we can do just as we please and 
make believe we are back in camp. Oh, for one little 
sight of our guardian !” 

“If she were only here, our happiness would be com- 
plete,” said Jessie, as they made their way back. “I 
wonder how Marjorie and Eleanor and Dot and Ruth 
and the whole bunch of them are, anyway. I’m crazy 
to see them all.” 

“And we haven’t heard from them in so long! I 
do wish it didn’t take mail so long to travel across 

the Oh, here’s the very place we are looking for, 

girls,” she interrupted herself. “It’s just big enough 


Crossing the Channel 227 

for three of us, and I don’t believe anybody ever 
comes this way.” 

So saying, she pulled a chair into the corner and 
made herself comfortable, while Jessie and Evelyn 
followed her example. 

“You’re a wonder at thinking things, Lucy,” said 
Evelyn, as she comfortably settled herself with her 
head resting against the cabin. “This is ever so 
much better than sitting where everybody can look 
at us.” 

“Of course it is,” agreed Lucile. Then, after a mo- 
ment, she added, dreamily, “Girls^ do I look any dif- 
ferent than I did when we started? Somehow, I feel 
awfully different.” 

Jessie Regarded her through lazy, half-closed eyes. 
“No,” she drawled, “I don’t see that you’ve changed 
so much. Your nose and eyes and mouth are all the 
same and your hair still curls. You have tanned, 
though, and there’s a little rim of white right up close 
to your hair, where the curls keep the sun off, and ever 
since a certain morning” — here Jessie and Evelyn, 
companions in crime, exchanged glances, and Lucile 
began to burn a deeper red under the tan — “and ever 
since a certain morning I have noticed a very marked 


228 


Lucile Triumphant 


tendency toward dreaming, and several times when 
}^ou should have answered ‘no’ to a question you have 
answered ‘yes,’ and we knew you hadn’t heard a single 
word. Aside from that, you haven’t changed at all, 
except that you’re a million times dearer and sweeter 
than you ever were,^’ she finished, with a sudden out- 
burst of affection. 

Lucile hugged her gratefully, but her cheeks were 
still unduly red when she answered, “I didn’t know I 
was being so rude, and it must have sounded fright- 
fully foolish when I answered ‘yes’ instead of ‘no’; 
but I’ll try to reform.” 

“Don’t you do it,” said Evelyn. “You don’t know 
how interesting you are this way, especially to Jessie. 
She says it’s better than reading a story any day, and 
she can enjoy herself without breaking any of the 
camp-fire rules.” 

Lucile shot a reproachful glance at her friend, who 
laughed shamelessly, “I don’t care, Lucy; you’d en- 
joy it just as much as I do if you were in my place. 
You used to make such fun of my McCutcheon books 
and everything ” 

“Yes; but don’t forget I took it all back that day 
in camp when we saw — well, you know what ” 


Crossing the Channel 229 

'‘Yes, I know,” said Jessie, star-eyed at the mem- 
ory. “Was there ever such a summer, anyway?” 

“You haven’t told us yet what Jack said in his let- 
ter,” Evelyn interrupted, irrelevantly. “Be good to 
us, Lucy, and throw us some small scraps of informa- 
tion to satisfy our curiosity.” 

“Well, I can’t tell you everything he said,” Lucile 
began. 

“We hardly expect that,” murmured Jessie, and 
Lucile threw her a suspicious glance. 

“Well,” she continued, after an ominous silence, 
during which Jessie intently studied the sky-line, “I 
can tell you the part that would interest you most. 
He says if he can persuade his uncle that he is des- 
perately in need of a change, he may see us in Paris.” 

“What?” cried Jessie, regarding Lucile with laugh- 
ing eyes. “You mean that Jack says he may actually 
come to Europe? That means he will, because he 
can wind that wealthy old uncle of his round his little 
finger. Good for dear old Jack!” 

And so they talked on and on, reviewing past and 
prophesying future delights, until the position of the 
sun reminded them that it was time to seek the rest 
of the party. 


230 


Lucile Triumphant 


“So here you are/’ said Mrs. Payton, as they ap- 
proached her from around a corner of the cabin. “We 
were beginning to think you had jumped overboard. 
Your father has just gone around the other way to 
look for you.” 

“Pm sorry we didn’t come back before; I can see 
it must be about time to land by Phil’s face. He never 
looks sad unless he’s hungry.” 

“You’re wrong this time,’"’ said Phil. “I’m look- 
ing sad because I haven’t seen Jessie for two long 
hours.” 

“Don’t tell me that,” said Jessie, the unconvincible. 
“You might try that with some one else, but not with 
me; I know you too well.” 

“But suppose I don’t want to try if with any one 
else,” Phil objected, managing to fall behind the rest 
and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Suppose I 
wasn’t fooling ; suppose I really meant what I said ?” 

Jessie turned quickly and said, in a tone in which 
laughter and despair were equally blended, “Oh, Phil, 
you’re not going to begin anything like that — 
please ” 

“Why not?” said Phil, doggedly. “If you don’t 
mind, I think I shall.” 


Crossing the Channel 231 

Jessie regarded Phil’s serious face out of the corner 
of her eye and gave a little hysterical gurgle. 

“It’s no use,” she thought, as Phil placed a chair for 
her with more than usual care ; “it must be in the air. 
When Lucy knows 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE OLD CHATEAU 

Lucille had been awake for some time. She lay 
with both hands beneath her curly head, staring 
straight up at the ceiling and thinking, thinking very 
hard. 

They were on the outskirts of Paris. Her father 
had heard from the Applegates of this wonderful lit- 
tle inn, where one might be as comfortable as in one’s 
own home. This had appealed strongly to them all, 
for the girls were eager for a sight of the country, 
especially since the gratifying of their desire would 
not entail the loss of city delights in the least — 
a machine could whirl them into the heart of Paris in 
half an hour. 

Such was the pleasant trend of Lucile’s thoughts 

as she turned her eyes toward the bright patch of 

window and beheld a world bathed in golden sunshine. 

“How pretty it all was !” she mused. “Take the clouds, 

for instance. How feathery and soft and fleecy and 

silvery-lined they looked, floating on that vast sea of 
232 


The Old Chateau 


233 


brilliant turquoise; and somewhere, somewhere there 
was a bird singing, more exquisitely, she was sure, 
than bird had ever sung before. Oh, if she could only 
get one little peek at him! With this in view, she 
stole silently from the bed and over to the window. 

“Time to get up?” yawned a sleepy voice from the 
bed. 

“Oh, he’s stopped!” wailed Lucile. “He stopped 
the minute you began to talk. Oh, Jessie, why did you 
have to wake up just then ?” 

Jessie gazed at her friend as at one gone suddenly 
and violently insane. “If it will do you any good, I 
will go to sleep again,” said she, with much dignity. 
“But I should like to know what or whom it was I 
stopped and ” 

“Oh, hush!” begged Lucile, with her finger on her 
lips. “There he is now ; listen, please !” 

And Jessie listened while the little songster poured 
out his joy in liquid cadences that rose and fell and 
sparkled out upon the morning air like dancing sun- 
beams turned to music — so light, so rippling, so joy- 
ously alive, that the girls’ hearts thrilled in answer. 

“Oh, the darling!” cried Jessie, springing out of 
bed and joining Lucile at the window. “I wonder 


234 Lucile Triumphant 

what he is ; we never heard anything like that in Bur- 
leigh. Now he’s stopped again ” 

'‘He won’t sing when you talk, of course,” said 
Evelyn, who had been quietly watching them. 

"Of course not,” said Jessie, calmly. "He knows 
there is no use trying to compete with the music of 
my voice.” 

"Time to get up,” exclaimed Evelyn, in a loud voice, 
and began a show of dressing in a great hurry, while 
Lucile gave a little despairing laugh. 

"I don’t know what you two would do if you didn’t 
have me to act the part of peacemaker all the time. 
I’m afraid they would have one or the other of you 
up for murder before the end of a week.” 

"Well, we couldn’t get along without you, anyway,” 
said Jessie, affectionately. "What’s the use of think- 
ing of such awful calamities ahead of time ?” 

"All right; we won’t, if you say so,” said Lucile, 
and, snatching a pillow from the bed, she hurled it 
at the unsuspecting and suddenly pensive Evelyn. 
The aim was good and Evelyn tumbled over on the 
bed, while a couple of feet waved frantically in the 
air. 

"Oh,” she cried, half smothered by the pillow, "I’ll 


The Old Chateau 


235 


get even for this, Lucile Pa3rton! You just wait!” 
And, being a young person of her word, Lucile just 
ducked in time to escape an answering shot. 

Then would have ensued an old-fashioned pillow 
fight, had not Lucile suddenly bethought her that this 
was not their own home. 

“Girls I” she cried, half choked with laughter. 
“Girls, we’ll have somebody in here, sure as fate, if 
we don’t stop. They’ll think there’s a fire or some- 
thing.” 

“Or worse,” Jessie laughed, good-naturedly, and 
after that they gradually quieted down. 

As usual, they were dressed and ready on the same 
instant. Lucile opened the door quietly and they 
stepped into the corridor. 

“Guess we must have roused the hotel, after all,” 
said Evelyn, ruefully, as they heard unmistakable 
sounds of awakening in the neighboring rooms. 
“They’ll be notifying us that our patronage is no 
longer desirable if we don’t look out.” 

“I wonder how you say that in French,” said Lu- 
cile, her eyes merry. “If they did try to put us out, 
we could just pretend we didn’t understand.” 

“Yes, we could follow the example of Joe, the Ital- 


236 


Lucile Triumphant 


ian who puts out our ashes,” laughed Evelyn. “J^st 
grin when they try to argue and shrug our shoulders. 
‘Me no speck Ang-lish.’ ” 

The girls laughed appreciatively, and Jessie added, 
“Neverthless, your comparisons are odious. Joe, the 
ashman, is not what you might call — in our class.” 

‘T could understand French a good deal better than 
I can some of Jessie’s United States,” said Evelyn, 
plaintively, and so they laughed their way out onto 
the broad, picturesque porch of the rambling old inn 
and stood gazing curiously about them. 

The road wound in front of the house, over a small 
hill, and was lost to view on the other side. The 
woodland, being so near the city, was not dense, but 
the girls thought they had never seen foliage so vividly 
green nor grass so soft and luxuriant. The beckon- 
ing shadows of the trees, the fragrance of the dew- 
drenched flowers, the trilling music of a thousand care- 
free, joyous little songsters, all combined in one irre- 
sistible appeal to the girls. 

With common and unspoken consent they ran down 
the steps of the porch and to the other side of the 
road. They plucked beautiful, long- stemmed flowers 
from their hiding-place and excitedly called each 


The Old Chateau 


237 


other’s attention to the brightly colored birds, that 
balanced on swaying twigs, regarding them with saucy 
inquiry. 

“To see us now, anybody might think the country 
was new to us,” exclaimed Lucile, with sparkling 
eyes and cheeks like twin roses. “Oh, girls, there’s 
my bird again,” she added, and stood, finger on lips, 
while the clear note, starting soft and sweet, swelled 
to a height of trilling ecstasy and abandon, when all 
the welled-up joy of summer poured liquidly golden 
from a bursting little heart ; then, slowly, hesitatingly, 
with soft, intermittent trillings and gurgles, died and 
faded into silence. 

“Oh, oh!” Jessie whispered, as though afraid to 
break the spell. “Did you ever hear such bird music 
in all your life ? What can he be ?” 

“I wish I’d paid a little more attention to my natu- 
ral history now,” said Lucile, smiling ruefully. “But 
even that wouldn’t help much until we’d seen the bird, 
anyway. Let’s see if we can get a glimpse of him.” 

They were following eagerly, when Jessie ex- 
claimed, “Oh, bother! There’s Phil on the porch 
beckoning to us. What do you suppose he wants?” 

“I don’t know; breakfast, maybe,” Lucile answered. 


238 Lucile Triumphant 

‘‘Suppose you girls run over and tell him Fll come 

right away. I do want to locate that bird.’’ 

“All right; only don’t be long,” Jessie advised, as 
they started, arm in arm, toward the inn. “We’ll have 
some time after breakfast to do the locating.” 

Lucile retorted laughingly, and was off in the di- 
rection from which the sweet notes had seemed to 
come. 

“Of course, he wouldn’t sing now that I want him 
to in a hurry,” she communed with herself^ “Any 
one of these birds might be the one as far as looks 
are concerned.” 

She was just about to despair, and had almost made 
up her mind to turn back, when the golden note rose 
again and she stopped, entranced. There, over her 
head and not five feet away, swaying perilously on a 
slender twig, balanced the little songster, pouring out 
his joy to a responsive world. 

“Oh, you darling!” cried Lucile, impulsively. “I 
wish I could take you home with me, which you would 
not like at all. I must ask Dad what you are; he 
would probably knowi” 

So, triumphant, she started happily along the path, 
anxious to tell the girls of her luck. It was a great 


The Old Chateau 


239 


temptation to linger along the way; it would be nice 
to take back with her a bunch of wild flowers. She 
would give them to a waiter, and see that they were 
put upon their table. 

With this in view, she hastened along, not noticing 
that the sun had gone under a cloud and that the path 
to the road was very long. 

Therefore, she was surprised, when she emerged 
from the woodland, to find the sky, formerly all blue 
and fleecy clouds, changed to a threatening, lowering 
gray. 

“But where is the inn?’’ she stammered, looking 
about her, bewildered. Then, as the appalling truth 
struck home, she grew pale with consternation. 

“How could I do such a thing?” she wailed. “I 
must have taken the wrong path, and now I am, good- 
ness knows where. And even the sun has disappeared. 
Now I am in a nice fix,” and she gazed about her 
helplessly and vexedly, not knowing which way to turn. 

“Well, there’s no use standing here; that never did 
anybody any good,” she said, at last. “If my weather 
eye does not deceive me, I am in for a good wetting, 
if I can’t find shelter anywhere. Oh, the folks will 
be wild!” 


240 Lucile Triumphant 

With these and other disquieting thoughts, she 
started to push her way along the deserted road, with 
the forgotten wild flowers clutched tightly in her hand. 

She had walked for over half an hour, and the first 
drops of rain had begun to splash upon her bare head, 
when, to her great delight, she saw the white front of 
a house among the trees. 

With a joyful cry she broke into a run and, a mo- 
ment later, came upon a pebbled drive that led up to 
a low, picturesque structure, built on the top of a 
gentle slope. 

Lucile had that strange sensation which we all have 
experienced some time in our lives, a distinct impres- 
sion she was not looking upon the chateau for the 
first time. Something about it seemed vaguely famil- 
iar, and it was on the tip of her tongue to put her 
thoughts into words when she dismissed the idea as 
absurd. Why, she had spent all of her life, up to the 
last month at least, in Burleigh, so it was plainly 
ridiculous even to imagine she knew the place. Many 
and many a time she had read descriptions of French 
chateaux — ah, that was it ! She must have read about 
just such a place. But, in spite of all reasoning, the 
illusion clung with startling persistency. In fact, the 


The Old Chateau 


241 


nearer she came to the house, the more and more was 
she impressed with its familiarity. 

She ran up to the porch just as the storm broke. 

“Pretty good time,” she smiled, as she lifted the 
old-fashioned knocker on the big door and let it fall 
with a bang. 

“Now, if I can’t make whoever comes understand 
my French, and I haven’t very high hopes, then am I 
lost indeed.” 

But she had no time for further thought. The door 
opened quietly and a soft voice inquired : 

“Que voulez vous, Mam’selle?’^ 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 

Lucille regarded the speaker soberly for a mo- 
ment. She was a dainty, pretty, bright-eyed little 
person, with a repose of manner that seemed, some- 
how, out of keeping with her obvious youth. Lucile 
had understood the softly spoken French question, but 
when she answered it was in the native tongue. 

‘T do not understand French,” she said, slowly. ‘T 
am an American.” 

“Ah, I, too, can speak the English,” said the other, 
with a delightful accent. “What is it I can do for 
you, Mam’selle?” 

Lucile could have hugged her, so great was her joy 
at hearing her own language spoken so unexpectedly. 

“If you will just be good enough to let me stay here 
till the storm is over,” she said, “and then tell me how 
to get to my friends, I will be very much obliged.” 

“Ah, Mam’selle has lost her way,” said the little 

French girl, nodding her head quickly several times. 

242 


248 


The Heart of the Mystery 

“I know the country well and so will give you the aid 
you require.” She spoke with painstaking correct- 
ness. “Enter, Mam’selle!” 

Lucile was very glad to avail herself of the invita- 
tion, for she was tired from the long walk and her 
damp clothing clung to her limbs uncomfortably. 

Her diminutive hostess led her into a large, low- 
ceiled, home-like room, whose broad window sills were 
abloom with fresh-cut flowers. Lucile thought that 
only the sun was needed to make it the cheeriest room 
in the world. 

“If Mam’selle will explain tO me from where she 
comes,” the girl invited, “I will the better know how 
to make swift her return, since she wishes it.” 

“Thank you!” said Lucile, gratefully. “I wouldn’t 
care so much for myself, but Fm afraid my folks will 
be terribly worried.” Then she went on to describe 
the inn and her adventure of the morning. 

When she had finished, her hostess nodded thought- 
fully. “I know the place of which you speak,” she 
said, “and I would most gladly take you there im- 
mediately, but my servant has gone to the village with 
the only carriage of which we are the owner and has 
not yet returned. I fear he may have waited for the 


244 ? Lucile Triumphant 

storm to abate,” and she glanced out the window, 
where the rain was still pouring down in torrents. 

Lucile’s heart sank. “Then I can’t hope to get back 
to the folks or send word to them till the rain stops,” 
she said. 

The girl nodded confirmation. “I fear that is so, 
Ma’m’selle,” she said; then, as though realizing her 
duty as hostess, she rose to her feet, saying, hurriedly, 
“But I forget myself. You must have hunger, 
Ma’m’selle. I will return at once.” Then, checking 
herself again, she added, “But I have not yet told you 
my name. It is Jeanette Renard.” 

“And mine is Lucile Payton.” 

“Now are we acquainted,” said Jeanette, gaily. 

Lucile, left to herself, felt again, only to a greater 
extent, that strange sense of familiarity with her sur- 
roundings. Then, in a flash, the solution came to her. 
Why, how stupid she was not to have realized it be- 
fore ! The chateau corresponded, word for word, with 
M. Charloix’s description. In Lucile’s own words, it 
was it! 

And her name was Jeanette! Why, of course! 
How absurdly simple the whole thing was ! Why, this 
was the very scene of M. Charloix’s amazing story. 


The Heart of the Mystery 245 

But that she, Lucile, should stumble into the very 
midst of all this mystery 

At this point in her meditations Jeanette re-entered 
the room, smiling and serene. Lucile decided she was 
older than she looked. 

“I will send a servant with a message to your people 
after you have finished your repast,” she said. 

‘‘But the rain?” Lucile began. 

“Ah, that is nothing,” said the girl, shrugging her 
shoulders, as if dismissing the subject. “She is well 
used to it.” 

Although Lucile’s excitement and curiosity were 
fast reaching fever heat, she tried to control herself 
and to answer Jeanette calmly and sanely. 

A few moments later a delicious meal was spread 
before her, to which she did full justice, feeling by 
this time on the verge of starvation. 

When she had finished, Lucile expressed her curios- 
ity and admiration for the old place and Jeanette sug- 
gested that they look about — provided her guest was 
not too tired. Lucile replied that she felt as if the 
word “tired” had never been in her vocabulary — which 
was literally true. 

At the end of a fascinating tour of inspection, dur- 


246 


Lucile Triumphant 


ing which Lucile had started many times to put pointed 
questions to Jeanette and stopped just in time, Jean- 
ette paused at the foot of a winding staircase. 

She ascended a step or two; then, looking down 
upon her young guest, said, wistfully, “I am so glad 
you came! I have so little company and seeing you 
has been like — ah, like a cup of water to one dying of 
thirst,” and underneath the little laugh that followed 
Lucile fancied she detected an infinite sadness. 

Her warm young heart went out to the other girl, 
as she said, heartily, ^‘Then I’m very glad I mistook 
the path this mdrning, since it has given me a chance 
to know you. But why don’t you ever see any- 
body?” she added. “Aren’t there any girls around 
here?” 

“Oh, yes, there are some — but it is so long a story, 
I would not bore you with it. Come, we will go up- 
stairs !” And, though Lucile was dying to hear more, 
she wisely forbore to press the point. 

While they were looking about them happily there 
was the sound of wheels on the drive and Jeanette, 
rushing to the window, exclaimed, “There’s Pierre at 
this minute. Mam’selle will pardon if I speak with 
him a moment?” and for the second time that day Lu- 


The Heart of the Mystery 247 

die was left alone in this house of romance and mys- 
tery. 

‘‘She won’t mind if I look around by myself,’’ and 
so she began to explore in earnest. She was tremen- 
dously excited. 

“They say these old chateaux are full of secret pas- 
sages, but I’d never have the luck to find any. Oh, I’m 
afraid the girls won’t believe me when I tell them 
about it — and I won’t blame them much if they don’t ; 
I’d have to see it to believe it myself.” 

The attic was large and many cornered, with a 
sharply slanted roof, shading tiny, many-paned dor- 
mer windows. There were the regulation cobwebs, 
that hung in attractive festoons from the rafters. 
These, with the quantities of discarded but beautiful 
old furniture, scattered about in picturesque confusion, 
formed an effective background for Lucile’s detective 
work. 

She groped her way over every inch of the wall, 
sometimes getting down on her knees, trying to per- 
suade herself she really hoped to find a spring that 
would release something hidden — she didn’t care much 
what it was, but it must be hidden. However, after 
she had convinced herself that there was not a square 


248 


Lucile Triumphant 


inch of space she had not investigated, she rose to 
her feet reluctantly, feeling as though she had been 
cheated. 

‘‘Horrid old thing!” she murmured, dusting the cob- 
webs from her hands. “You look so nice and inter- 
esting and mysterious just on purpose to discourage 
promising young sleuths like me. I wish I hadn’t 
given you the satisfaction of bothering with you,” and 
she leaned against the wall in utter disgust. 

Thus does fortune, in the very hour of our despair, 
place in our hands the thing for which we have been 
so hopelessly searching. Even as her elbow touched 
the panel behind her there came a sharp click and be- 
fore Lucile’s startled gaze a small, square door opened 
slowly and deliberately, trembled, seemed to hesitate, 
and then came to a full stop, leaving its shallow in- 
terior exposed to view. 

It was not till then, when she stood, open-mouthed 
and open-eyed, staring dumbly at this apparition, that 
she realized how little she had really expected it to 
happen. 

“Well, Fm not dreaming, that’s one sure thing,” 
she murmured, approaching the little opening with ex- 
treme caution, while chills of alternate fear and ex- 


The Heart of the Mystery 249 

citement coursed all over her. '‘It seems so weird and 
ghostly to see that thing open all by itself, with noth- 
ing to help it along! Ghosts or not, I’m going to see 
what’s there,” and, strengthened by this resolve, she 
started to place her hand in the opening, but drew it 
back quickly with a frightened gasp. 

“You’re a coward,” she accused herself, angrily. 
“Any one would think you had touched a snake. 
If you don’t hurry up, Jeanette will be here and 
spoil everything. I think she’s coming now,” and, 
spurred on by the sound of approaching footsteps, 
she reached in and drew forth a long, rolled-up, legal- 
looking document, tied and sealed and covered with 
dust. 

“I know it’s the will. I’m right, I’m right I” she 
cried, joyfully. “She is the Jeanette — but, oh, how 
the plot thickens ” 

“What have you found?” said a soft voice behind 
her, and she turned to confront Jeanette, who was 
smiling and curious. 

“Look!” said Lucile, waving the document wildly. 
“The door just opened — I don’t know how; my elbow 
must have touched a spring — and this thing was in it — 
the opening, I mean, not the door.” 


250 


Lucile Triumphant 


“But what is It?” asked Jeanette, puzzled. “I have 
not the remembrance of having looked at it before.” 

“Then you don’t know?” said Lucile, wide eyed. 

“The girl shook her head, eyeing the document with 
a puzzled expression. Gradually bewilderment 
changed to surprise, surprise to incredulity. 

“It’s the will !” she cried. “The will of Henri Char- 
loix ! Oh, it cannot be so ; it can’t — ^you say you found 
it in here?” she questioned, and, without waiting for 
an answer, plunged her hand into the opening, while 
Lucile drew nearer to her. 

“May I look?” she asked, and the girl nodded, turn- 
ing luminous eyes upon the pretty, awed face at her 
shoulder. “You may prove to be the best friend I have 
ever yet known,” she said, solemnly, and drew from 
the secret hiding-place a very ordinary tin box, with 
a scrap of writing bound to it with a coarse cord. 

The wording was in French, but Jeanette, translat- 
ing for her benefit, read : “To be opened by my little 
daughter Jeanette on the event of her twenty-first 
birthday. Signed, Edouard Renard.” 

“It is from my father!” cried Jeanette, sinking 
down, all white and trembling, upon a worn old couch 
and clasping the precious box to her as though she 









WITHOUT WAITING FOR AN ANSWER, SHE PLUN(iEl) HER HAND 

INTO THE OPENING. 




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The Heart of the Mystery 251 

could not let it go. “Father! father!” she cried, and, 
bending her head upon her arms, sobbed as though her 
heart would break. 

Lucile turned and tiptoed from the room, thinking 
she had intruded long enough; but a soft call from 
Jeanette made her pause. She seated herself on the 
stairs and waited. 

To Lucile’s tingling consciousness that short wait 
seemed an eternity. Her head ached with the flood of 
imagining that besieged it, her two hands grasped the 
banister to keep her rooted to the spot, while her feet 
tapped an impatient tattoo on the floor. 

At last the longed-for summons came. 

“Lucile,” called a low, unsteady voice, “will you 
come to me?” 

Would she come ? Lucile flew up the winding stairs 
and came to a standstill before Jeanette a trifle uncer- 
tainly, not quite sure what was expected of her. 

The uncertainty lasted only a moment, for, as Jean- 
ette, shy and dewy-eyed, held out her arms to her 
new-found friend, quite suddenly Lucile knew. Im- 
pulsively she threw her arms about the older girl and 
drew her close, whispering, softly, “Tell me all you 
feel you can, Jeanette; you can trust me.” 


252 Lucile Triumphant 

“Oh, I believe that,’’ said Jeanette, between sharp 
little intakes of breath. “Were I not sure of it, I 
could not so confide in you.” 

“Thank you,” said Lucile, simply. 

“You see,” the girl continued, “when 1 was very 
young I went to live with M. Charloix, whose will this 
is,” indicating the document. 

“And M. Charloix had a son, named after him, 
Henri,” Lucile supplemented. 

The girl drew back in startled wonder, while the 
bright color flooded her face. “You know that — but 
how?” she cried. 

“We sailed with M. Charloix from New York to 
Liverpool,” Lucile explained, striving vainly to keep 
her voice calm and steady. “He was searching for you.” 

“Then you know — he has told you everything,” 
whispered the girl, while the document in her trem- 
bling hand rattled and shook. “Was he — did he — oh, 
how did he look?” And she turned pleading eyes 
upon Lucile. 

Lucile’s own eyes filled suddenly and she had to 
choke back the tears before she could continue. “He 
looked very wan and sad. You see, uncertainty like 
that must be pretty hard to bear.” 


253 


The Heart of the Mystery 

‘^Ah, it has not been easy for me,” said the girl, 
softly. “It is a great thing to renounce all you hold 
most dear in this world — to fly for refuge to a spot 
like this — the long, weary nights — the waiting — the 
longing — oh, you cannot know!” and she burst into 
a passion of weeping. 

“You — you’re going to make me cry,” said Lucile, 
while a tear rolled down her face and splashed upon 
Jeanette’s bowed head. 

“Ah, I am so foolish! There is no reason for 
tears — not now,” and over the girl’s tear-stained face 
flashed such a look of radiant joy that Lucile could 
only gaze, dumbfounded, at the transformation. 

“Wh-what?” she stammered. 

“Ah, you wonder, you are amazed — but you will not 
be when I have told you all. Look, this is the will — 
the will for which I have heard Henri is hunting. But 
that is not everything — oh, it is nothing! See!” and 
she held up the little tin box for Lucile’s inspection, 
feverishly, eagerly. “In this is a letter from my 
father — my father, who died when I was so young 
and left me to the care of my guardian. He was 

good to me, but M. Charloix ” She shivered 

slightly. “But the letter, — she drew it forth rev- 


254 Lucile Triumphant 

erently — “ah, that changes the world for Henri and 
me! 

“You see, when my father was very young, scarcely 
more than a boy, he ran away and married a girl of 
great beauty and intelligence, but one considered by 
the people among whom he moved as far beneath him 
in station. The rest is so old a story — his family were 
so cruel to him when it came to their knowledge, dis- 
inheriting him; and my father, not being accustomed 
to earn his own living, could not make enough to pro- 
tect his sweet young wife — my mother ” Her 

voice broke, and Lucile squeezed the small, brown 
hand encouragingly. 

“Ah, imagine it!” she cried. “Most often she had 
not enough to eat. Then, when I was only an infant, 
heart-broken at the suffering she thought herself to 
have brought upon herself and little daughter, to- 
gether with the so great privation itself, she died. My 
father followed soon after — heart-broken. Before he 
died, he wrote me this — ah, see how old it is — for he 
could not bear that I should hear of him from other 
lips than his.” 

“But you, the child?” Lucile interrupted, eagerly. 
“What became of you?” 


255 


The Heart of the Mystery 

^^Ah, he bequeathed me to the one friend whom he 
had not lost — and he was good; I cannot make you 
understand how good!’’ 

“But he never told you about your parents ?” 

“It was my father’s request that he should not — 

and — and ” Her voice trailed off into silence. 

Chin in hand, she gazed unseeingly at the opposite 
wall. 

Lucile was silent for a moment, busy patching the 
pieces of the story together into one connected whole. 
Then, leaning forward suddenly, she cried, excitedly, 
“Then M. Charloix deliberately made up that wicked, 
cruel lie that separated you and his son?” 

The girl nodded. “But nothing matters now, save 
that it was a lie,” she cried, and Lucile, looking at her, 
marveled. 

The raucous toot of a motor horn brought both the 
girls to their feet with a startled exclamation. 

“Oh, it is your friends,” said Jeanette, running to 
the window. “You must go down at once. Ah, I am 
sorry to part with you, ma cherie” holding the younger 
girl from her gently and looking earnestly into the 
flushed, eager face. “You have come into my life like 
some good fairy, bringing happiness with you.” 


256 Lucile Triumphant 

Emotion choked the words Lucile wanted to say, 
but her silence was more eloquent than words and 
Jeanette was satisfied. 

A moment later they were descending the stairs, 
arm in arm, and very reluctant to part. 

To Lucile’s surprise, Jeanette paused as they 
reached the lower hall and motioned her to go on. 

“But I want you to meet my father and mother and 
the girls,’' Lucile protested. “You’ve got to give them 
a chance to thank you.” 

But Jeanette only shook her head. “I can see no 
one, now,” she whispered, tremulously. “Ah, I could 
not bear it!” 

Lucile nodded understanding^. Then, “Monsieur 
Charloix?” she questioned. 

“Send him to me.” This last was very low. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


LUCILE TRIUMPHS 

Lucile Sped down the steps and into the waiting 
arms of her assembled family. 

She was hugged and kissed and handed from one 
to the other in a very ecstasy of reunion, until Mr. 
Payton spoke, a trifle huskily. 

“Perhaps,” said he, “perhaps it would be just as 
well to thank the young person who handed our run- 
away back to us,” and he glanced inquiringly in the 
direction of the chateau. 

“No, no,” said Lucile, hurriedly. “You see, it ” 

She hesitated; then, throwing secrecy to the winds, 
she pushed Jessie and Evelyn ahead of her into the 
automobile, crying excitedly, “I can’t keep it in an- 
other minute; there’s no use trying — I can’t — I 

can’t ” and, turning from her astonished friends 

to her no less astonished father, she said, “Dad, if 
you’ll only get started for home. I’ll tell you all about 
it ” 

“All about what?” Jessie started to interrupt. 

257 


258 


Lucile Triumphant 


“Fm going to tell you, Jessie, dear, but we must get 
started first,” and she clapped her hands impatiently 
while Mr. Payton gave the necessary orders and the 
chauffeur started the motor. 

“Oh, Phil, Phil, do stop staring so !” she cried, hys- ' 
terically. “I know you are going to be awfully cut 
up when you learn that your much-abused and misun- 
derstood sister was right, after all.” 

“Lucile,” cried Evelyn, in exasperation. “If you 
don’t stop talking in riddles and get down to plain 
United States that everybody can understand ” 

“Oh, I will,” gasped Lucile. “Did any of you see 
anything unusual about that chateau?” she questioned. 
“Didn’t it look — well, rather familiar to you ?” 

“There she goes again!” wailed Evelyn, and Jessie 
added, “We were too busy looking at you to notice 
the old house. What’s that got to do with your story, 
anyway?” 

“You’d find out if you would only have a little 
patience. I’ve a good mind not to tell you, anyway,” 
she finished, rather childishly, for, you see, in spite of 
the excitement, or, more probably, because of it, Lu- 
cile was very tired and a finicky audience didn’t ap- 
peal to her. She wanted to tell her story her own way. 


Lucile Triumphs 259 

“Go ahead, Lucy; forgive us!” said Jessie, all com- 
punction at once. “You’ve made us so excited we 
can’t wait, that’s all.” 

“Yes, we promise not to interrupt again,” added 
Evelyn. 

“Oh, go ahead and tell your story, Lucy; cut out 
the sob stuff!” This from an unsympathetic brother, 
who should have withered next minute beneath the 
scathing searchlight of scorn turned his way. 

Then Lucile told her story, from the minute she 
left the girls to the present time. During the recital 
they forgot more than once their promise not to in- 
terrupt, but Lucile, heart and soul in her story, never 
noticed them. 

Mr. Payton was as much interested as the young 
folks, for he had entertained a sincere liking for the 
despondent young Frenchman. 

When Lucile, flushed and breathless, finished the 
recital and leaned back against the cushions, the girls 
and Phil overwhelmed her with a flood of questions. 

“So that was really the chateau old Charloix told 
us about. Why didn’t you tell us while we were there, 
BO we could have had a good look at the place?” Phil 
objected. “Let’s go back. Dad,” he added, eagerly. 


260 


Lucile Triumphant 


“It wouldn’t take very long and it’s a crime not to 
give the place the once over now that we have the 
chance.” 

“Oh, Phil, we can’t go back now,” wailed his sis- 
ter. “I’m a perfect mess ” 

“Of course we can’t ; there isn’t time, anyway,” said 
Jessie, sweeping the suggestion aside with a sang- 
froid that aggravated Phil. “The thing I’m most in- 
terested in now is that will and the letters her father 
left her. Oh, it’s too wonderful !” 

“And to think,” said Evelyn, with shining eyes, “to 
think that all the time we were worrying about you 
and feeling sure you were lost, you were having the 
time of your life! Oh, if I’d only had the nerve to 
follow you!” 

“Yes, just think of that lost opportunity,” wailed 
Jessie. “Such a chance will never come again, never. 
But, Lucile, dear, do tell us what Jeanette looked like,” 
she begged, for the fiftieth time at least. 

Before she could reply, Mr. Payton said, slowly, 
“It is a very serious, a very delicate thing, to inter- 
fere in the lives of two. people, Lucile. In this instance 
the end justifies the means, but it might easily have 
turned out otherwise. This isn’t a lecture, dear,” he 


Lucile Triumphs 261 

added, patting the brown head tenderly, “simply a 
caution.” 

“I know,” said Lucile, looking up understandingly 
into her father’s kind eyes, “and I will be more care- 
ful in the future. Dad. But, oh,” she offered, in ex- 
tenuation, “when mystery marches right up to you 
and begs to be looked into, what can you do? Oh, 
girls, if you could only have been there — if you only 
could!” 

“Don’t rub it in,” cried Evelyn, clapping her hands 
to her ears. “You have me fairly jumping with envy 
now.” 

“Do you think you could find Henri Charloix for 
Jeanette, Dad?” said Lucile, turning eagerly to her 
father and ignoring the interruption. “You see, 
there’s nothing to stand between them now.” 

“I think so,” said Mr. Payton, his eyes kindling 
with an interest almost as great as his daughter’s. 
“I’ll spare no trouble to bring those poor harassed 
young people together. It’s an outrage the way the 
French hand their children about like so much mer- 
chandise. I’ll do my best, little girl, now that you have 
started the ball rolling,” he promised. 

Lucile squeezed his hand gratefully, and Jessie sud- 
denly broke out with, “Now I know why Phil hasn’t 


262 Lucile Triumphant 

seemed to take much interest in the proceedings, and 
why he has been studying the sky with such concen- 
tration ever since Lucile has been talking.’’ 

“Why ?” cried both girls, in a single breath. 

“Simply because” — she paused for dramatic effect, 
then flung her bomb with force at the intended vic- 
tim — “he’s jealous!” she hissed. 

“Oh, is that so?” said Phil, drawing his gaze re- 
luctantly from the far horizon and letting it rest 
dreamily on his accuser. “May I be allowed to ask 
what intricate and devious chain of reasoning leads 
you to make so unheard of a charge?” 

“Oh, nonsense!” exclaimed Jessie, disrespectfully. 
“You know you’re jealous, so why deny it? Seems 
to me I remember” — it was her turn to let her gaze 
wander skyward — “if I mistake not, that a short time 
ago a certain young gentleman — I mention no names, 
but look where Fm looking” — she threw him a mis- 
chievous glance, which he was by no means loath to 
intercept — “did, upon occasion, laugh and scoff ” 

“Same thing,” Phil interrupted. 

“At his sister,” Jessie continued, undaunted, “when 
she ventured to prophesy that which has really taken 
place.” 


Lucile Triumphs 263 

'‘Yes. ‘Paris is a very large place, you know,’ ” 
mocked Lucile. 

“Take it all back, take it all back !’' cried Phil, over- 
whelmed. “Pll admit you’re the greatest little sleuth 
outside of Sherlock, Lucy. Hands up and spare my 
life!” 

The girls laughed with the joy of the victorious and 
Evelyn was about to speak, when Phil called out sud- 
denly : 

“Jack Turnbull, by all that’s lucky! What Drought 
you here?” And he fairly flung himself out of the 
stopping machine. 

They had come upon the inn suddenly over the 
rise in the ground and there, standing against the 
pillar and nonchalantly surveying the scenry was — 
Lucile had to rub her eyes to be sure of unimpaired 
vision. 

Then, the machine coming to a full stop, the two 
girls stepped out, while Lucile followed more slowly 
in their wake, conscious suddenly of dust-stained 
clothing and rumpled hair. “And I wanted to look my 
best,” she wailed, in truly feminine despair. 

She had not much time for lamentation, for, 
through the handshakings of Phil and the ecstatic 


264 Lucile Triiunphant 

demonstrations of his cousin, Jack’s handsome eyes 
sought and found hers. 

“It’s a long way to come just to see you,” he cried, 
gripping her hands tightly. “But it’s sure worth it,” 
he added, boyishly. 

Lucile never had longed so for a mirror. She knew 
her hair was all awry, that her dress was wrinkled 
and covered with dust, and that her eyes must look 
funny from crying over Jeanette, and ” 

“I’m very glad to — to see you,” she stammered. 
“If you will — excuse me just — a minute — I’ll change 

this awful rig — and — and ” She flashed him an 

uncertain little smile and was gone through the broad 
doorway, leaving him to gaze after her, mystified and 
troubled. 

“It’s all right. Jack!’' consoled Phil, with the su- 
perior knowledge of one who has a sister toward one 
who hasn’t, and therefore knoweth not the ways of 
woman. “It’s her clothes; but wait till she gets all 
dolled up; there will be a change. To talk of some- 
thing else, how did you happen to strike the old inn?” 
and Jack, somewhat enlightened, entered upon the sub- 
ject with a will, while the two girls followed in the 
wake of the deserter. 


Lucile Triumphs 265 

They found Lucile standing before the mirror, sur- 
veying herself dejectedly. 

“What did you want to run away for?’’ charged 
Jessie. “Jack felt hurt, I know, even though Phil 
did try to explain.” 

“Just look at me,” Lucile began, miserably. 

“Well, look at you,” repeated Evelyn. “What’s the 
matter with you? Your eyes aren’t red any more — 
the wind took that away — and your hair always looks 
better when it’s rumpled ” 

“And as for your dress,” Jessie took it up, “do you 
think Jack would notice what you had on ? He wasn’t 
looking at that ” 

“Well, how did I know I was beautiful with red 
eyes and wild hair and a dress that looks as if it were 
new in the seventeenth century?” cried Lucile, brought 
to bay. 

“We’d have told you if you’d asked us,” said Jes- 
sie, fondly. 

Lucile threw an arm about each of the girls and 
drew them before the mirror — two fair heads with 
a dark one in between. 

“You’re great comforts, both of you. But, girls, I 
did think I was such a — mess !” she chuckled, happily. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


‘‘two’s company” 

Lucile was happy even before she awoke that 
morning. The sense of something delightful in store 
pervaded even her dreams. For a long time she lin- 
gered in that delightful interim between waking and 
sleeping, when the spirit seems to detach itself and 
fly on wings of golden sunshine through a dewy, 
scented universe. In her confused imagining she was 
resting on a rose-colored cloud, while all around her 
other clouds of varying tints swam and swirled, tak- 
ing different shapes as they passed her by. 

“How pretty!” she murmured, and woke with a 
start to find Jessie regarding her sleepily. 

“What on earth were you muttering about, Lucy?” 
cried the latter, fretfully. “I guess you must have 
been having a bad dream.” 

“No, it wasn’t; it was beautiful,” she contradicted, 
putting her hands behind her head and gazing up at 
the ceiling. “I wish you hadn’t waked me up; I was 

having an awfully good time.” 

266 


“Two’s Company” 267 

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Jessie, so sourly that Lucile 
chuckled. 

“You know, Jessie,” she said, “the only time you 
are ever cross is when you are sleepy — and that’s most 
all the time,” she added, wickedly. 

“What?” said the accused, sitting up in bed and 
seizing Lucile by the arm. “Unsay those words or 
I will have your life !” 

“Now, you know you don’t need it half as much as 
I do,” reasoned Lucile. “You have one of your own.” 
Whereupon Jessie laughed, and peace was almost re- 
stored when there came a knock at the door. 

The girls started and looked at each other in ques- 
tioning bewilderment. 

“Now what have you been doing?” whispered Lu- 
cile. “I knew one of these days you would have the 
law upon us.” 

“Up to your old tricks again, I suppose,” Jessie 
countered. “But you’d better answer them, Lucy.” 

“Why don’t you?” said Lucile; but, receiving no 
answer, called out in a small voice, as the rap was 
repeated, “Who is it?” 

“Aren’t you girls ever going to get up ?” whispered 
a gruff voice, which they, nevertheless, recognized as 


268 


Lucile Triumphant 


belonging to Phil. ‘‘It’s almost eight o’clock and you 
said you’d be down by half-past seven. We’ve been 
waiting for half an hour.” 

“All right; we’ll be down right away, Phil,” said 
Lucile, jumping out of bed and beginning to dress 
hastily. “I had no idea it was so late.” 

“You know you won’t have time for a walk before 
breakfast, even if you are down in half an hour — 
which I doubt,” said Phil, pessimistically. “Jack and 
I are going for our walk, anyway.” 

“Run along,” sang Jessie, cheerfully, “and don’t 
hurry back.” 

“You just wait till I get you. Jet,” he threatened — 
Jet being a recent nickname to which he had clung de- 
spite Jessie’s vehement protestations that the name 
would fit a Southern mammy a good deal better than 
it did her, for the simple reason that a darky was jet, 
but she wasn’t nor ever would be. 

“All right; only see that you pay enough,” she as- 
sented. “I’m mercenary.” 

“I have always suspected something in your life, 
woman,” he hissed through the keyhole. “Farewell!” 
And they heard his retreating footsteps on the stairs. 

The girls laughed merrily, just as Evelyn, fully 


269 


“Two’s Company” 

dressed, emerged from the next room — they always 
drew lots to see who slept together — looking very 
sweet and dainty in her spotless white. 

^‘Hurry up, you old slow-pokes,’' she greeted them, 
gaily. “IVe been up for ever so long. It’s a won- 
derful day.” 

“Oh, Evelyn, dear, you look darling in that dress ! 
I’ve never seen it before!” cried Lucile, enthusiasti- 
cally. “Turn around in the back. Isn’t it cute, Jes- 
sie? Goodness! You make me ashamed of myself!” 
And she began dressing with renewed vigor. 

“Will you get dressed for me, too, Evelyn?” begged 
Jessie. “With so much energy flying around loose, I 
ought to catch some of it, but I don’t. Oh, for an- 
other hour’s sleep !” 

“You don’t have to get up,” said Evelyn, sitting 
down on the edge of the bed. “You can sleep till 
noon if you want to, while Lucy and I have a look 
at the Capitol and dine at some nice little cafe ” 

“Say not another word,” commanded Jessie, bounc- 
ing out of bed and winding her long braids about her 
head. “I’d like to see anybody leave me behind. Lucy, 
do get out of my way — I have to have the mirror 
some of the time!” 


270 Lucile Triumphant 

Lucile laughed. ‘‘All right; I’ll fix my hair in Eve- 
lyn’s room, now she’s through, and let you have the 
whole place to yourself,” she said, and, gathering up 
hairpins and ribbons, she ran into the other room to 
finish up. 

“What are you going to wear this morning, Lucy?” 
asked Evelyn from the doorway, where she could see 
both girls at once. 

“The little flowered one, I guess,” said Lucile, strug- 
gling with her hair. “I haven’t worn it yet, and Dad 
raves about it.” 

“I wish you would wear the blue one,” Evelyn sug- 
gested. “I think it’s the prettiest thing you have.” 

“But I’ve worn it so much,” Lucile objected. “I 
don’t want to be known by my dress.” 

With apparent irrelevance, Jessie called out from 
the other room, “Jack loves blue.” 

Instead of looking confused, as she knew was ex- 
pected of her, Lucile answered, readily, “I’ll wear it 
then, of course. Phil likes blue, too.” 

Evelyn and Jessie exchanged glances and the latter 
laughed aggravatingly. 

“Evelyn, what have you done with my tan shoes?” 
cried Jessie, searching wildly under the bed. “I’m 


271 


“Two’s Company” 

sure I put them in their place, and they’re nowhere to 
be seen,” and she sat back on her heels to glare men- 
acingly about her. 

“Here they are,” called Lucile from the other room. 
“You left them here last night. Hurry up! Fm all 
ready now.” 

They were pictures of youthful loveliness as they 
began to descend the stairs — 'Evelyn, in her snowy 
white, looking for all the world like a plump and 
mischievous little cherub, and Jessie in the palest 
pink, which set off and enhanced her fairness. But 
it was to Lucile that all eyes instinctively clung. 
The soft curls framing the lovely, eager face; the 
color that came and went with each varying emotion; 
the instinctive grace with which she carried her 
proud little head, won her admiration wherever she 
went. 

All this, and more. Jack was thinking as he watched 
the trio descend. He and Phil were occupying a stra- 
tegic position, from which they could see but not be 
seen; in fact, they had left the front door slightly ajar 
with that very end in view. 

“It seems very strange,” Lucile was saying as they 
reached the foot of the stairs, “that we haven’t heard 


272 Lucile Triumphant 

any breakfast bell. If it’s as late as the boys say it is, 
everybody ought to be up.” 

Then she flung open the door and came upon the 
boys, seated on the railing of the veranda, apparently 
engrossed in conversation. The girls gasped with 
amazement at sight of the boys, and the boys gasped 
with very genuine admiration at sight of the girls. 

“Wh-what ” began Lucile, bewildered. ‘T 

thought you and Phil were going for a walk.” 

“So we are,” said Jack, easily. “We were only 
waiting for you.” 

“Phil,” Lucile turned accusingly to her brother, 
“this is some trick you are trying to play on us. Why 
isn’t there any breakfast and why aren’t there any 
people. Come on, ’fess up !” 

Jessie threw up her hands wearily. “We ought to 
know enough to suspect him by this time,” she sighed. 
“But I guess we’ll never get over being taken in.” 

“By the position of the sun,” quoth Evelyn, “it 
ought to be about six thirty.” 

“Just about,” Lucile corroborated. “No wonder we 
were sleepy.” 

All this time the boys had been regarding the vic- 
tims of their deception with an assumption of inno- 


“Two’s Company” 273 

cence, made ineffective by the suppressed laughter in 
their eyes. 

‘‘Now I guess we’re even for all the insults you’ve 
heaped upon my unoffending head in days gone by, 
Jet,” Phil gibed. “Routing you up at six o’clock evens 
up for a lifetime.” 

“You needn’t take so much credit to yourself, 
brother, dear,” Lucile countered. “We were going to 
get up, anyway, weren’t we, girls,” to which the girls 
agreed shamelessly. 

“It’s a compliment, anyway,” said Jessie, philosoph- 
ically. “They were so eager for our society that they 
even had to resort to tricks.” 

“Right you are,” laughed Jack. “Now that we have 
some time, let’s make good use of it. Come on; we’ll 
hike,” and, taking Lucile’ s arm, he started down the 
drive. 

“Where to?” called Phil. 

“Makes no difference to me where we go,” Jack 
flung back, recklessly. “Let the girls decide.” 

“Make Lucile take the lead,” Jessie suggested. 
“Maybe she can unearth some more mysteries.” 

“No, she won’t; she’s through,” said Phil, decidedly. 
“If there are any more clues floating around loose, it’s 


274 Lucile Triumphant 

going to be her brother that will find them. I want 
that distinctly understood.’' 

Meanwhile, Lucile and Jack had swung off into a 
narrow and much more difficult road than the one 
they were on, and Phil shouted a remonstrance. 

“Why not stick to the road we know about?” he 
shouted, as they stopped and looked back. “That 
looks like a pretty stiff climb.” 

“We know as much about this as we do the other,” 
Jack shouted back, “and this is lots prettier. Come 
on ; if it gets too steep, we can always go back.” 

“No, I guess we’ll stick to this one,” Phil decided. 
“It looks like too much work where you are,” and the 
trio walked on. 

Lucile started to follow, but Jack laid a restraining 
hand on her arm. “We don’t have to follow them,” 
he pleaded. “It’s so long since I’ve seen you, and I 
haven’t been able to talk to you yet.” 

Lucile hesitated; then, “Well, just for a short dis- 
tance,” she conceded. “And then we can meet them 
on the way back.” 

“Thanks,” he said; then added, “I thought you 
weren’t very glad to see me yesterday. You know, 
I was strongly tempted to take the next steamer 


“Two’s Company” 275 

across the Atlantic. Haven’t you thought of me 
at all?” 

It was rather a hard question to ask, and Lucile 
blushed when she remembered how often she had 
thought of him and his letters. 

‘‘Of course,” she said; “and I wrote to you ” 

“Just twice,” he finished. “I came very near send- 
ing you a box of writing paper — thought there must 
be a scarcity of it over here.” 

Lucile laughed her gay little laugh. “That would 
have been a surprise,” she chuckled; then, more seri- 
ously, “But, you know, there are so many people to 
write to, and it was awfully hard 

“Oh, yes, I know all about it,” he broke in. “Ter- 
ribly busy; couldn’t find time, and all that, but if you 
think very much of somebody, writing isn’t a duty; 
it’s a pleasure.” 

“But I didn’t say,” Lucile began; then, desperately, 
“Oh, please, can’t we talk of something else?” 

“Certainly,” he agreed, and Lucile sensed the hurt 
in his voice. “We’ll talk of anything you please. 
What plans have you made for the day ?” 

“Why, Dad said he would take us to Paris,” said 
Lucile, instantly sorry for her little speech, yet afraid 


276 Lucile Triumphant 

to say so. “We simply can’t wait to get there! Of 
course you are going with us ?” 

“If I may. I came over with my uncle, you know, 
and left him in Paris to transact some important busi- 
ness while I hunted you up. It’s a good little place — 
the inn, I mean— and I’m glad your father asked me to 
stay for the night. It’s a charming spot and quite 
close enough to the city.” 

“That’s what Dad thought. Then, after we have 
lunch at some swell little restaurant — you know ” 

“Yes, I know,” he agreed, laughingly. “Colored 
lights, and music, orchestra, all that,” and he waved 
his hand expressively. 

“Uh-huh; and after all that, he’s going to drop us 
at the Louvre — oh, how naturally I speak of it now, 
and it used to seem like something on a different 
planet — while he tries to look up M. Charloix — he 
gave Dad his card on shipboard, luckily.” 

“And then?” he prompted, laughing eyes fixed on 
the lovely, animated face at his shoulder. 

“Well, then,” she continued eagerly, “then comes 
the very best of all. We’re going somewhere for din- 
ner, then the theater, then dinner again, oh-h ” 

“Just one glorious day of gladness,” he laughed; 


'‘Two’s Company” 277 

then, noticing her quickened breath, “We mustn’t tire 
you too much this morning when you have such a long 
day before you. Suppose we rest a while.” . 

“And here is the very place,” she agreed, indicating 
a great, flat rock, shaded by a huge, spreading tree. 
“Oh, isn’t the view wonderful from here? I hadn’t 
noticed it before.” 

“You said it,” Jack agreed, stretching his lazy 
length on the grass at her feet. “The hill has formed 
a sort of shallow precipice and the lake sure does look 
great down there.” 

For a few moments they were silent, drinking in the 
beauty prodigal Nature lavished all about them. Fur- 
tively Lucile examined this cavalier of hers. Straight 
of feature, bronzed from living in the open, eyes so 
full of fun you had to laugh in sympathy — oh, he was 
handsome; there was no doubt of that. And his hair, 
black and wavy and soft — Lucile was sure it was 
soft 

“I wish you would tell me what you are thinking 
about,” he said, looking up with a quizzical little smile. 
“You were quiet so long ” 

“That is unusual,” she laughed, trying not to 
look confused. “Perhaps we had better be starting 


278 Lucile Triumphant 

back/’ she added; ^^the others will be looking for 
us.” 

“Jnst as you say,” he answered for the second time 
that morning; then, as he helped her to her feet, ‘‘I 
wish we could have this day together; it’s been great 
to be alone with you even for this short time. But 
I forgot that that subject was unwelcome ” 

“Oh, please,” she begged, laying an impulsive little 
hand on his arm. “I — I didn’t mean to be cross.” 

He caught the little peace-making hand in both his 
own, laughing down into the prettiest eyes he had ever 
seen. 

“That’s the best thing I have heard to-day,” he 
exulted. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE THUNDERBOLT 

Breakfast was over, and the girls had hidden their 
pretty evening coats under long linen dusters. For, 
as Mrs. Payton had explained, they would have no 
time to change for the evening, and they must look 
their best — to which, needless to say, the girls agreed 
with enthusiasm. 

^‘And we can wear those new motor bonnets we 
bought in England the day before we sailed,” Lucile 
rejoiced. So the insistent honk of the motor horn 
found them all cloaked and bonneted, and ready for 
the day’s fun. 

‘‘Come on,” cried Lucile, pulling Jessie away from 
the mirror by main force; “you look wonderful, Jes- 
sie,” and down the stairs they ran and out onto the 
veranda, where a good many of the guests had as- 
sembled to see them off. 

The boys took immediate possession of them and 

hustled them, willy-nilly, into the car, despite their 
279 


280 Lucile Triumphant 

vehement protestations that they must say ^‘good-byes’’ 
to “lots of people/' 

“They’ll be here when you get back,” Phil argued, 
“and mother’s already been waiting half an hour. 
Time’s up !” And off they went with great noise and 
laughter and waving of hands to the group on the 
porch. 

“Oh, what a perfect day !” cried Lucile, settling back 
between Evelyn and Jessie in the tonneau. As usual, 
Mr. Payton was in front with the driver, the three 
girls were squeezed tightly in the rear seat, Mrs. Pay- 
ton occupied one of the collapsible seats, and Jack and 
Phil — well, they were anywhere they could get. 

Jack had earlier proposed the use of his two-seater 
for Lucile and himself, but Mr. Payton had demurred, 
smilingly preferring “safety first.” 

But now, the floor of the machine being not the 
most comfortable place in the world, Phil objected. 
“Say, Dad, why don’t you let Jack take Lucy in his 
car? He’s a fine driver, and he’d stick close to us all 
the time.” 

“I think it would be safe enough,” Mrs. Payton 
added. “Mr. Turnbull says he has driven the car for 
years.” 


The Thunderbolt 


281 


Mr. Payton hesitated, giving the command to slow 
up, nevertheless. ‘‘Well, perhaps it would be better,’^ 
he agreed at last, but very reluctantly; “if you will 
promise to stay close to us all the time.'' This last to 
Jack. 

Jack promised readily and happily, and they turned 
back. A few minutes later they were on their way 
again, everybody comfortable, everybody happy, espe- 
cially Lucile and Jack. 

“I didn't dare hope for this," he whispered, as they 
followed in the wake of the big touring car. “The 
hat's class!" he added, admiringly. 

So the morning was spent in touring the great city. 
The girls were fascinated by the noise and bustle, the 
number and magnificence of the public buildings, and, 
most of all, by the gay little restaurants and cafes lin- 
ing both sides of the broad boulevards. 

“Imagine this at night!" said Jack, hugely enjoying 
Lucile's unaffected delight in everything she saw. 
“Can’t you just see the lights spring up and the theater 
crowds gathering?" 

“And we are going to see it all !" cried Lucile, clap- 
ping her hands and fairly dancing with delight. “Oh, 
Jack, I simply can't wait; I can't!" 


282 


Lucile Triumphant 


Noon had come and passed. They had had luncheon 
in a wonderful little restaurant near the Rue de la 
Paix, where they had enjoyed to the full the music 
and “all that,” and now the two automobiles, little and 
big, drew up before the magnificent piece of architec- 
ture, the Louvre. 

Lucile caught her breath as she and Jack joined the 
group already assembled on the sidewalk. “The pic- 
tures you see give you absolutely no idea of it,” she 
breathed ; “it must have been planned by an artist.” 

“Yes; and see how big it is,” said Phil. “It’s going 
to take us a long time to explore it.” 

“Explore is hardly the word ” Jessie was be- 

ginning, when Evelyn interrupted, “It doesn’t make 
any difference what you call it, but I’m just going to 
look and look and look till I can’t look any more.” 

“Well, that’s what it is here for,” laughed Mr. Pay- 
ton; “and now I’ll tell you what I am going to do with 
you young people. When we get you well started on 
your sight-seeing, Mrs. Payton and I are going to 
run away to hunt up this tragic hero and reinstate him 
and his sweetheart, if it lies within our power. We’ll 
be back in an hour or two, and I guess there will be 
plenty to interest you for that length of time. So, in 


The Thunderbolt 


283 


with you; there’s no time to lose,” and he propelled 
his laughing flock before him up the broad stone steps. 

Once inside, as may be easily imagined, the girls 
experienced no trouble in finding things to absorb their 
interest, and it was hard for them to take time to say 
good-by to their chaperons. The latter laughingly left 
them to their own devices, feeling sure that they were 
safe for the time being, at any rate. 

^‘Talk about spending an hour here ! Why, I could 
spend a week in just one room!” exclaimed Jessie, 
after half an hour of blissful wandering. ‘T never 
saw so many things all at once in my life.” 

'T suppose you girls have never visited our great 
museums at home?” Jack questioned. ‘T have often 
felt that way myself ; a person could spend a month 
just studying the things in one room, and still not 
know all he should about them.” 

“By home I suppose you mean New York,” said 
Jessie; then added, demurely, “You forget, sir, that 
we are simple country maids, who have hardly stepped 
outside of Burleigh until this summer.” 

“Yes, I guess that’s one reason why we like every- 
thing so much,” said Evelyn, naively. 

“Oh, the mummies, the mummies! I must see the 


2*84 Lucile Triumphant 

mummies!” cried Lucile, startling the others with the 
suddenness of her outburst. ‘‘Oh, Jack, please take 
me to the mummies.” 

“There, there; she shall have her mummies if she 
wants them,” said Jack, soothingly. “If they haven't 
enough. I’ll head an expedition to Egypt for more 
right away, so don’t worry; you shall have all you 
want.” 

“I wonder what you'd do if I took up up,” laughed 
Lucile, as Jack hurried her off in the direction of the 
Egyptian section. “Egypt is a long way from here, 
you know.” 

“I came to Europe for you; Egypt isn’t so much 
further,” he teased. 

A few moments later Lucile and her friends were 
standing before the glass cases containing the swathed 
forms of some of Egypt’s ancient rulers, encased in 
their vividly painted coffins. 

They could not wonder enough at the miracle that 
had been wrought — the bodies of men who had ruled 
mighty Egypt four thousand years ago still in existence 
for twentieth-century moderns to marvel at ! Besides 
the mummies, there were the numerous curiously 
wrought vases and utensils that had been placed in the 


The Thunderbolt 


285 


tombs alongside the mummies for their use after 
death. The little party might easily have spent all 
their allotted time in the examination of these and . 
other interesting relics, had not Jack hurried them 
away. ‘T realize we can’t begin to see all there is to 
see on our first trip,” he said, “but we can do our best, 
anyway.” 

They visited the art gallery, filled with marvelous 
paintings and sculptures ; went through the room 
where old-time and modern musical instruments were 
gathered together; and so on through a very world of 
wonders, of which, as Evelyn plaintively remarked, 
“they had only time to see enough to make them want 
to see more.” So interested were they that it was 
four o’clock before they realized that it was long past 
the time set for Mr. and Mrs. Payton’s return. But 
suddenly this fact dawned on Phil, and he drew Lu- 
cile aside and asked her in a whisper what she sup- 
posed could be keeping them. 

Lucile looked worried. “You don’t think anything 
could have happened ; an accident, perhaps ?” she ques- 
tioned, anxiously. “The streets were awfully crowded, 
you know, when we came down.” 

“No, I don’t think there has been anything like that ; 


286 Lucile Triumphant 

probably it’s taken them longer than they thought to 
look up that Charloix fellow,” he answered, trying to 
be reassuring. “Anyway, don’t let’s say anything to 
the rest. There’s no use making everybody miser- 
able.” 

So half an hour passed; then an hour; and the 
brother and sister could keep their anxiety to them- 
selves no longer. 

“What do you suppose can be keeping them?” Lu- 
cile wondered, as they all gathered round in anxious 
conference. “They surely never would have stayed 
away of their own accord, and it’s getting really late.” 

“We’ve been here about three hours now, haven’t 
we?” Jack added. “And they ought to have been here 
an hour ago at the latest. Oh, well, we can expect 
them any minute now.” 

“Suppose we go outside and see if we can find any 
sign of them,” Evelyn suggested. “It’s hot in here.” 

So out they went, making a very handsome group 
as they looked eagerly in all directions, vainly hoping 
to catch a glimpse of the big gray car. 

“Phil, I’m terribly worried,” Lucile murmured, 
drawing closer to her brother and slipping her hand 
into his for comfort. 


The Thunderbolt 


287 


Phil squeezed the little hand reassuringly. “Half 
an hour from now we’ll be laughing at our fears,” he 
said, cheerfully, trying hard at the same time to con- 
vince himself. 

“Seems to me there’s a good deal more noise than 
there was. Jack. Why are all those boys running 
around like chickens with their heads cut off? They 
all have papers, too.” Jessie was frankly puzzled. 

“They are newsboys, little coz, and they wouldn’t 
be flattered by your comparison. They are yelling 
what, in United States, would be ‘extra!’ I’ll get a 
paper and see if I can puzzle out some of the French,” 
and he strolled down to intercept one of the hurry- 
ing urchins. 

Lucile watched him as he sauntered leisurely back, 
wondering, in her distracted little brain, how he could 
be interested in anything when he ought to be as anx- 
ious as she. “But it isn’t his mother and father,” she 
explained to herself. 

Meanwhile, Jack’s puzzled frown had turned to 
a look of absolute dismay and incredulity as he 
read. 

“What is it?” Phil asked. “Everybody seems to be 
getting more excited and worked up every minute. 


288 


Lucile Triumphant 


Look at that group of men over there. Does the paper 
throw any light on the subject, Jack?’" 

‘‘Well, I should say so!’' cried Jack, in huge ex- 
citement. “Look here, all of you!” And while they 
gathered around him, expecting they knew not what 
calamity, he brokenly read the headlines: “Austria 
declares war on Servia. Open break with Russia ap- 
prehended. Germany sides with Austria ” 

“War, war?” Phil echoed, dazedly. “Why, it’s just 

as old Major B prophesied, only sooner. Can 

you read any^more. Jack?” 

“Oh, do, do!” urged Lucile, forgetting her anxiety 
in this overwhelming, almost unbelievable news. 
“There must be more of it you can make out.” 

The familiar honk of an automobile horn jerked 
their eyes from the paper to the curb, where the big 
gray touring car had silently drawn up. Lucile 
snatched the paper none too ceremoniously from Jack’s 
hand and flew to the machine, joyfully relieved to find 
her father and mother safe and sound. She was 
closely followed by the others. 

“Mother, Dad, I’m so glad to see you’re back all 
right; we were awfully worried!” she gasped. “But 
have you seen the paper? Oh, what does it mean?” 



* r 


HE BROKENLY REAL THE HEADLINEvS : “AUSTRIA DECLARES WAR 





The Thunderbolt 


289 


‘‘It means/’ said Mr. Payton, slowly, and with 
grim emphasis,” “it means that the sooner, we leave 
this country behind and set foot on good old United 
States soil the better it will be for all of us. Come, 
get in.” 

“But, Dad, how about dinner, and the theater, and 
all the other things we were going to do?” Lucile 
wailed. “Have we got to give them all up ?” 

“Better to lose a little pleasure than find ourselves 
stranded in a country at war and perhaps be unable 
to leave it. We haven’t any time to lose.” It was the 
first time Lucile could remember ever hearing that 
tone of command in her father’s voice, and somehow 
she knew it muk be obeyed without question. 

Silently, and as yet unable to comprehend the full 
extent of what had occurred, the party, which had 
started out so merrily and under such bright auspices 
in the morning, returned to their hotel. 

Only once did Lucile shake off her preoccupation 
long enough to ask for M. Charloix. 

“Did you find him. Dad? We thought you might 
have had some trouble, you were so long getting 
back.” 

“Oh, it did take more time than we expected, but it 


290 Lucile Triumphant 

was worth the trouble when we did find him/' In 
spite of his anxiety, Mr. Payton's eyes twinkled at the 
memory. 

“But what did he do?" Phil broke in. “How did he 
take the news?" 

“Running, I guess. Before I had half finished ex- 
plaining to the lawyer, he was off on a dead run 
for the chateau. Didn't even wait to hear about the 
will." 

“Then he doesn’t know yet?” Phil cried. 

“Of course he does, silly," said Lucile, with the air 
of one who knows all there is to know of such mat- 
ters. “Don’t you suppose Jeanette has told him long 
before this?" 

Again Phil retreated gracefully. “Well, you know 
the lady,” he admitted. 

The rest of the trip passed quickly in visioning the 
joyful reunion of the two young lovers, and it was not 
till they were fairly upon the inn that the grim specter 
of war again intruded itself. 

They found the same feverish excitement there as 
elsewhere, for the newspapers had arrived with the 
mail and the dire news had spread like wildfire. 

As Jack took his leave, saying that he had promised 


The Thunderbolt 


291 


his uncle to spend the night with him, but would re- 
turn the first thing in the morning, uncle and all, to 
accompany them home, he drew Lucile aside for a 
moment. 

“Mighty hard luck, not seeing the lights, after all,’’ 
he whispered, “but there may be other times.” 

“I don’t know when we will ever get to Europe 
again, and there was so much to see yet — Switzerland, 

and Rome, and — and ” She struggled bravely to 

choke back the tears of bitter disappointment that rose 
to her eyes. “I — I don’t see — why they had to have 
an old war — anyway,” she sobbed. 

For a moment they were alone, and very gently he 
took her hand in his. “Don’t you worry,” he soothed. 
“Some time, after we get home, perhaps you will come 
to New York, and then I’ll show you Broadway. It’s 
better than anything you can get over here, anyway ! 
Here, I have your handkerchief,’^ and he abstracted a 
filmy little square, all lace and no center, from his 
pocket and handed it to her. 

“Thank you,” she said, and smiled uncertainly 
through her tears. “You must think I’m very child- 
ish and foolish — and — everything 

“Especially the last ” 


292 Lucile Triumphant 

‘Tucile, Lucile, Dad wants to know where you are/' 
It was Phil's voice. 

‘‘I'm coming," called Lucile; then, turning to Jack, 
“Good-by," she murmured, suddenly very reluctant to 
have him go. 

“Until to-morrow," he whispered, and was gone. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THROUGH SHROUDING MISTS 

To THE girls, the week that followed seemed like 
some vivid, disjointed nightmare. They were hur- 
ried from Paris to London, and from London to Liver- 
pool, along with crowds of worried, anxious Ameri- 
cans, who, like themselves, were fleeing from the un- 
expected cataclysm. 

After much difficulty, Mr. Payton finally succeeded 
in securing two staterooms, second cabin, while Jack 
and his uncle were lucky enough to get one not very 
far removed from our party. 

“But how are we going to manage with only two 
cabins for six of us ; little ones at that, from your ac- 
count?” Mrs. Payton protested, in dismay. “Why, 
the three girls and I will have to occupy one between 
us!” 

“Can’t be helped,” replied Mr. Payton, and then 

added, with intense earnestness, “I don’t believe that 

one of you realize yet the magnitude of this tragedy 
293 


294 Lucile Triumphant 

that menaces Europe. If you did, you would be thank- 
ing your lucky stars every minute of the day that you 
have the chance to leave England for our own blessed 
country, no matter what the cost or inconvenience. 
Why, within a month this whole continent will be in- 
volved in war. There are people now besieging the 
booking offices by the hundreds who would be glad 
and thankful to find room in the steerage. If we had 
not started when we did, we would be among them.” 

Lucile shivered. ‘‘Oh, Dad, it does make the thought 
of home seem good,” she said. 

Their ship was to sail at nine o’clock the following 
morning, and long before the appointed time the girls 
were up and ready for the voyage. 

“What a difference!” mused Lucile, looking wist- 
fully out upon a dreary, leaden prospect. “Even the 
weather seems to be in sympathy with the country’s 
trouble.” 

Jessie adjusted her hat soberly and thoughtfully be- 
fore she spoke. “Yes,” she said, at last, “one day it’s 
all sunshine and happiness, and the next — oh, girls. 
I’m absolutely miserable!” 

“What good does that do?” queried Evelyn, snap- 
ping her bag shut with an air of finality. “Besides, 


Through Shrouding Mists 295 

you’re only breaking one of the camp-fire’s strictest 
laws, you know.” 

“Yes; that sounds all right, but it’s pretty hard to 
be cheerful when eveything’s going wrong,” said Jes- 
sie, pessimistically. “I don’t notice that anybody looks 
particularly happy these days, anyway.” 

“That’s no reason why we shouldn’t be the excep- 
tion,” said Lucile, shaking off the weight of depression 
with an effort and smiling bravely. “You never know 
what you can do till you try.” 

“Miss Howland always used to say that. We’ll see 
her and the girls soon, anyway, and that’s one big 
consolation,” said Jessie, brightening perceptibly. 

“Somewhere the sun is shining,” began Lucile. 

“Somewhere the world is gay,” added Jessie. 

Evelyn flung her arms about her friends. “Some- 
where the bells are chiming ” 

“And that’s in the U. S. A.,” finished Lucile, and 
they went down laughing. 

Mr. Payton met them at the foot of the stairs, and 
the frown on his anxious face turned to a smile as he 
heard the merry laughter. 

“It does me good just to look at you,” he said, 
sincerely. 


296 


Lucile Triumphant 


It was their third night out. In accordance with the 
strict orders of the captain, there were no lights on 
board, for there might be hostile warcraft lurking 
near. So the ship stole silently as a ghost through the 
mists that shrouded her. 

Lucile, Jack and Evelyn were leaning against the 
rail, talking in subdued tones, awed by the grandeur 
of the drama being enacted before their eyes. 

“Your uncle says that people farther inland are hav- 
ing all sorts of trouble trying to get to the coast,” said 
Lucile, “and now Fm beginning to realize the truth of 
what Dad said about our being lucky to get off as we 
did. Oh, but the cabin is awful !” she sighed, naively. 

Jack laughed understandingly. “I guess you must 
be rather crowded.” 

“Oh, but we oughtn’t to mind anything, now that 
we’re out of danger,” Evelyn broke in. 

“Yes; but I’m not so sure we are out of danger,” 
Jack protested. “The captain’s caution seems to show 
that there is still something to fear.” 

“You mean we might be captured?” Lucile ques- 
tioned, eagerly. “That would be some adventure. 
You might almost imagine we were living in the Mid- 
dle Ages ” 


Through Shrouding Mists 297 

'Tucile/* Evelyn was starting to remonstrate, when 
an excited voice whispered, huskily, ‘‘So you’re here, 
are you?” and two figures loomed before them out of 
the mist. “It’s I, Phil,” said one of them. 

“We were wondering where you and Jessie had 
gone,” Lucile began. 

“Did you know we nearly ran down a hostile 
cruiser? At least, that’s what the captain thinks it 
was,” he interrupted, excitedly. “If we had had lights 
aboard, they’d have caught us sure, take it from me.” 

“You mean we almost got captured?” gasped Lucile. 

“Go ahead, tell us the rest, Phil,” urged Jack. 
“Have we left her behind now, or is she still chasing 
us?” 

“Oh, we fooled them all right,” said Phil, as proudly 
as if the credit were all due to him. “We turned 
around and sneaked past, so I don’t think the man-o’- 
war knew we were anywhere in the neighborhood. 
They didn’t use their searchlights, luckily for us, be- 
cause they were afraid of being discovered themselves 
by some British cruiser, I suppose. But it had Jessie 
pretty well scared, didn’t it, Jes?” 

“No, it didn’t,” Jessie denied, somewhat quaver- 
ingly. “Only I am glad we’re going to reach port to- 


298 Lucile Triumphant 

morrow; this fog is getting on my nerves/^ she ex- 
plained. 

“Which reminds me,” said Phil, “that Mother sent 
me after you girls ; she says it's too damp on deck.” 

Reluctantly they turned from the spacious deck to 
the close, stuffy atmosphere of the cabin. 

Lucile paused at the top step of the companionway 
to look wistfully up into Jack's sober eyes. “I — I 
don’t want to go down there,” she said. 

“And I don’t want you to,” he replied. Then, with 
an earnestness that left no doubt of his sincerity, *Tu- 
cile. I'd give a lot right now to have you safe on 
shore.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


home! 

The sun rose gloriously golden, dispelling the stub- 
born mist with an army of riotous sunbeams, that 
danced and shimmered over the waves in wild defiance 
of threatening wind and lowering sky. The decks and 
railings of the steamer, still wet from the clinging mist, 
shone and glearned and sparkled in the sun like one 
gigantic diamond. Even the sailors sang as they 
worked, and one of them went so far as to attempt a 
sailor’s hornpipe on the slippery deck, to the great 
amusement of his mates. 

The girls had slept but little during the long night, 
and even when, from sheer exhaustion, they had 
dropped off into a troubled doze, weird, distorted 
fancies came to torment them into wakefulness, to 
stare, wide-eyed and fearful, into the inky blackness 
of the cabin. 

So it was that, with the first streak of dawn, Lucile, 

who had been able to lie still no longer, softly rose, 

fearing to awake the others, and began to dress. 

299 


300 


Lucile Triumphant 


‘Tm glad you are up, Lucy. I haven’t slept all 
night,” whispered Jessie, and the dark circles under 
her eyes bore unmistakable testimony to the truth of 
what she said. ‘‘I was afraid to get up for fear of 
waking Evelyn.” 

“You needn’t have worried,” and Evelyn, who had 
been lying with her face to the wall, turned over 
wearily. “I’ve been afraid to sleep — oh, girls. I’ve 
had such awful dreams!” And she covered her face 
with her hands to keep out the memory. 

“We’ll all feel better when we get on deck,” Lucile 
prophesied, hopefully. “Don’t let’s talk so loud; 
Mother is asleep.” 

“No, I’m not,” said a tired, fretful voice from the 
lower berth. “As soon as you girls get through, I’ll 
get up.” 

It seemed to the girls that morning as though they 
would never finish dressing. Their clothes, their hair- 
pins, even their combs and brushes, evaded them with 
demoniacal persistence, hiding under things, falling 
under the berths, rolling into corners, and otherwise 
misbehaving themselves, until the girls’ nerves were 
all on edge and they were dangerously near the verge 
of tears. 


Home 301 

It was Lucile's undying sense of humor that finally 
saved the day. 

“I feel just like the Prince in the “Prince and the 
Pauper,” when the rat made a bed of him,” she said. 
“Things can’t be any worse, so it stands to reason 
they’ve got to get better.” 

“Let’s hope so, anyway,” said Evelyn, halfway be- 
tween laughter and tears. “I feel just now as though 
I’d like to hit somebody.” 

“I guess it’s time we left, then,” laughed Lucile, and, 
suiting the action to the word, she opened the door 
and stepped outside, the others following. 

“If I look the way I feel, I must be a sight,” moaned 
Jessie. “I hope the boys aren’t on deck.” 

“Girls, look !” cried Lucile, pointing dramatically to 
the shaft of sunlight filtering through the companion- 
way. “The sun, the blessed old sun — it’s out !” 

“Wonder of wonders !” cried Jessie, as they rushed 
up the steep steps. “Let’s go look.” 

The sunshine fell on them in a warm, life-giving 
flood. It brought out the luster in their hair; it 
gleamed in their eyes ; it sent the warm color tingling 
to their faces; it made them want to sing, to dance, 
to shout with gladness. 


302 Lucile Triumphant 

‘‘Oh, to think that we were growling! To think 
that we dared to be down-hearted when this was wait- 
ing for us!” cried Lucile, joyfully. “We don’t de- 
serve our blessings.” 

“Of course you don’t,” said a cheerful voice behind 
them. “How’s this for a day?” 

“That’s just what we’ve been raving about,” said 
Jessie, as she hugged her cousin ecstatically. 

“Hey, look out, young lady !” cautioned Jack, gaily. 
“Not everybody on board knows we’re related, re- 
member.” 

“Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt them,” she 
retorted. “Besides, I’d hug the ship’s cook to-day if 
he happened to be anywhere around.” 

“I’m flattered!” laughed Jack, just as Phil greeted 
him with a bang on the shoulder that Lucile declared 
could be heard in the galley. 

“Say, let’s play ‘ring around a rosy,’ ” he suggested. 
“We’ve got to do something to celebrate.” 

“How exciting!” Jessie began, but before she 
could utter further protest she was jerked into the 
circle and was soon whirling round madly with the 
rest until they had to stop from exhaustion and 
laughter. 


Home 


303 


“It’s good we stopped just when we did,” said Lu- 
cile, peeping around a corner of the cabin. “I see old 
lady Banks in the distance. Tray, and may I inquire 
the cause of all this frivolity?’ ” and she imitated the 
old lady so perfectly that they went off into gales of 
laughter. 

“You’ve sure missed your vocation, Lucile,” said 
Jack, when they stopped to breathe. 

“That’s what we all tell her,” agreed Evelyn. “In 
Burleigh ” 

“Doesn’t it make me homesick, just to think of it!’' 
exclaimed Jessie. 

“You haven’t long to wait now,” cried Lucile, 
springing to her feet and searching the sky-line as 
though she hoped to see beyond it. “A few hours 
more, and — the harbor 1” 

Great crowds thronged the deck of the steamer. It 
had been announced that fifteen minutes more would 
bring them in sight of land — their land. Eyes, old and 
young, were straining for that first glimpse of a coun- 
try never so dear to them as now. 

“There it is I It’s there, it’s there 1” came in excited 
tones from different parts of the deck, the shrill tones 


304 Lucile Triumphant 

of women and children mingling with the deeper 
voices of the men. 

“Yes, now you can see it,’' Mr. Payton was saying. 
“That tiny speck — that’s America.” 

The word sped like magic through the crowd, 
breaking the tension. They all went mad with joy. 
Men shook hands with perfect strangers; women 
hugged each other, murmuring incoherently, and 
mothers gathered their little ones to them, weeping 
openly. 

“Hello, Lucy; that you? Where did you go, any- 
way?” said Jessie, surreptitiously wiping her eyes. “I 
was looking for you all over.” 

“Oh, just around,” Lucile answered, waving her 
hand vaguely, “congratulating everybody. Did you 
ever see such a wonderful time in all your life, 
Jessie? One little chap over there, who is crazy to 
see his father, asked what the noise was all about. 
Ts it because I’m going to see Daddy?’ he asked, 
and when his mother couldn’t answer him, she was 
crying so, he put his little face against hers and 
begged her not to. Tt’s just because I’m so happy, 
little lad; so happy,’ she said, and — and — oh, why 
is it that when you’re happiest, you have to go 


Home 305 

and cry?’' And she dashed the tears away 
fiercely. 

Some hours later the crowd again assembled on 
deck, everything in readiness to land. The beautiful 
city towered, majestic and imposing, before them, and 
the lofty buildings, with the sun full upon them, stood 
out clear and gleaming against the gray-blue of the 
sky. 

As they looked, a very passion of patriotism shook 
the ship from bow to stern, finding partial outlet in a 
storm of cheering. Then, somewhere, the stirring 
strains of the “Star Spangled Banner” rang out, sung 
in a man’s clear tenor. Everybody took it up, and 
soon a thousand exultant voices were joined in one 
great tribute to their country, wrung straight from a 
thousand grateful hearts. Men sang with their hats 
off ; women, with tears in their eyes. 

The last strains died away, the great ship scraped 
against the pier, and a wild cheering rose from the 
crowd assembled on the dock to welcome the voyagers 
home. 

The girls, who had been standing close together, 
drew a sigh and turned to each other with tear-wet 
eyes and bursting hearts. 


306 Lucife Triumphant 

‘‘Well, girls, have you got any luggage came in 
PhiFs matter-of-fact voice. “If you have, hand it 
over.’’ 

“I’ll take Lucile’s,” said Jack, and, as he suited the 
action to the word, he cried, joyfully, “We’re home, 
Lucile; we’re home!” 

And Mr. Payton, regarding the little group with 
loving eyes, added, very reverently, “Thank God !” 


C 30 0 


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